


Grounded

by ElanaDrex



Category: my hero - Fandom, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Character Development, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Protective Bakugou Katsuki, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Supportive Uraraka Ochako, Tropes, Tsundere Bakugou Katsuki, Uraraka Ochako-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23277211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElanaDrex/pseuds/ElanaDrex
Summary: Part One (chaps 1-7):Ochako gets lost in the woods with Bakugou. What could go wrong?Part Two (chaps 8- 13):When Bakugou gets obsessed with something, it consumes him like a wild fire, but he'll be damned before he admits that to anyone.Part Three (chaps 14-??):Building a relationship on love, lust and a whole lot of patience.
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Uraraka Ochako, uraraka - Relationship
Comments: 403
Kudos: 936





	1. Don't Give Bakugou Flammable Objects

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to appease my obsession with the Tough-guy x Happy-girl trope and ‘cause I love to soften them angry-boi edges. While this ship isn’t for everyone, I hope all the dumb tropes and fluff moments at least give you the warm fuzzies, ya know? I intend to write this in parts documenting their interactions through U.A. (and maybe after?) but we’ll see it how it goes!
> 
> Twitter: @elanadrex

**GROUNDED  
** Part One

  
_PROLOGUE_

All Might leaned over the medical report Recovery Girl had placed on his desk and frowned at the neat columns of numbers. The murmuring of U.A. teachers in the staff room did little to ease his mind, and out the corner of his eye he saw Katsuki Bakugou’s furious face frozen on his paused desktop monitor.

“This…” he said, “could be a problem.”

Hunkered in an almost conspiratorial manner around his desk, Midnight, Recovery Girl and Aizawa’s expressions were solemn and tight-lipped in agreement. Midnight hitched her thigh against his desk, sighing heavily. “Shocked, but not surprised. I mean…” She tapped All Might’s computer screen. “We managed to get the raw footage of his interview alongside Todoroki, and I can understand why they cut him out. He makes Endeavour look like a puppy! He’s probably the worst student we’ve ever had regarding social graces.”

“Troubled, not ‘worst’,” All Might corrected gently. “Bakugou-shonen appears to have some underlying issues that contribute to his ah… disposition. But we don’t exactly have the budget to put him through psychotherapy, and he isn’t –“

“He needs it,” Recovery Girl interjected, clambering onto the vacant seat beside All Might with a grave expression. “The fact he doesn’t see anything wrong with his attitude is a red flag in itself. What did you say his home life was like?”

All Might shrugged and toyed with the edge of the medical report. “He, ah… takes after his mother. During the License Exam he mentioned in passing the use of violence to reprimand bad behavior, but otherwise his upbringing seemed relatively normal.” He glanced up at the other teachers. “He may be spoiled, but he isn’t a bad kid, you know! He’s loyal and smart and strong and –“

Aizawa lifted a hand from where he lay partially zipped into his sleeping bag on the floor, cutting him off. “We know you’ve got a soft spot for the Class A kids. No need to tell us what we already know. But –“

“His manner isn’t improving,” Midnight declared. “Even with my flawless teaching!”

“And that –“ Aizawa gestured to the report “ – could see him suspended, if only on a temporary basis. I worry what would happen to him, if that were the case.”

“The physical well-being of our students should be top priority,” Recovery Girl said, and All Might didn’t miss the pointed look she shot him. “Even if we throw them into the maws of our enemies, we do so knowing they’re in top condition – the pinnacle of health. Right now, Bakugou is in bad shape.”

All Might leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. “So, what do we do?”

“He takes direction well from his superiors in every regard save for his temperament,” Midnight pointed out, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Despite his tenacity and egotism, he isn’t irrational. Perhaps presenting him with black and white data might be enough to trigger change?”

“Or rile him up,” Aizawa countered. “He can be focused when he wants to be, but mundane extra-curricular activities such as art or chess only test his patience; he ends up getting angry and giving up, or getting overly excited and… well, angry again.”

“His classmates tolerate his abuse with saintly patience,” Recovery Girl mused. “I guess they’re used to it by now, but he’s damn lucky to have them.”

All Might blinked at the ceiling, twiddling his thumbs. “Because they know he isn’t a bad person. Deep down he’s good, he just doesn’t know how to express it. The boy is tight as a coiled spring; he needs someone who will effectively allow him to unwind while steering him down a gentler path – someone who he respects enough not to dismiss, but doesn’t see as a large enough threat to stir his reflexive wrath.” He ran a hand over his face. “Midoriya-shonen is out of the question, of course. Kirishima-shonen also – although they get along well enough, expressing his more tender emotions might not be his forte. Bakugou sees Todoroki-shonen as a threat so…”

Aizawa sighed, and it seemed to All Might that his eyes sank deeper into the dark, sagging hollows of his face. “I’ll have you know that I’m not happy about lumping Bakugo’s issues onto another student; it’s hardly their responsibility. But… I suppose this is a lesson on what it means to be a hero. Now more than ever they need to understand the importance of supporting their teammates.”

All Might leaned forward in his seat. “You have someone in mind, Aizawa?”

Aizawa unzipped the sleeping bag, then trudged towards the door. “Yes. I’ll fetch them. I think they at least deserve to know what they’re getting into.”

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**  
Don’t Give Bakugou Flammable Objects

“A test,” Aizawa said from his place at the front of the class, and to the collective groans that ripped through Class A, he added, “It won’t contribute to your end of year scores, though you will need to retake it if you fail.”

More groaning. Aizawa didn’t bother to wait for it to subside before he continued.

“This is a test of orientation, survival, and your ability to work with others – skills which are integral when working the field.”

Mineta’s high pitched whine cut through the groans. “You mean we have to work _outside_? In this cold? Where all the girls will have to wear big thick coats and pants and boring scarves that cover their boobs and –“

His complaining was cut off by a mysterious book-to-the-head-like _thunk_ , which Aizawa chose to ignore.

“Heroes work in all seasons and weather conditions and are thrust into difficult circumstances with partners that may not compliment their quirks. Adapting, surviving, teamwork… These are attributes that form the core of a good hero.” His eyes fixed on Midoriya until the boy stopped audibly muttering, then continued. “Your test is simple: You and your pre-assigned partner will be dropped into Kaneko Forest, and from there you’ll make your way to a point marked on a map, where you will secure an item – a figurine, specifically – before navigating your way out of the forest again. Think of it as a retrieval mission, if you will. However, the forest will be closely observed by the U.A. staff, and if you are discovered, you will fail the mission and must re-take the test.”

Iida’s hand shot ramrod straight into the air. “Aizawa-sensei! Are you saying this is a stealth mission?”

“Of sorts. You may use your quirks, but only in a way that avoids detection. That means no floating over the canopy, no large fires, no explosions. You will be equipped with basic rations and equipment, but otherwise you are expected to survive using what the wilderness provides. Additionally, if you happen to encounter another pair, you are not permitted to team up and must go your separate ways. Although the likelihood of that happening is very slim; Kareko Forest is, after all, one of the largest forests in Japan.”

Midoriya raised his hand. “Aizawa-sensei, how will the pairs be decided?”

“They’ve already been drawn at random.” He pulled out a sheet and began reading off names.

* * *

“Ochako Uraraka and Katsuki Bakugou.”

Ochako pushed her index fingers together under the desk, shoulders hunching, and shot a furtive glance at the back of Bakugou’s head. He didn’t noticeably react, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed – then again, he probably wouldn’t be happy paired with anyone, besides perhaps Kirishima.

Midoriya turned around in his seat to look at her, and his terrified, liquid eyes and quivering smile reflected exactly how she’d felt when Aizawa had told her the real purpose of the test.

She returned his look with a thumbs up, smiling brightly with a confidence she definitely didn’t feel, and Midoriya turned his mortified expression on Bakugou (who luckily didn’t notice).

Honestly, she didn’t blame Midoriya for openly worrying, but… how bad could it be? Either Bakugou wouldn’t listen to the teachers and just explode a path through the forest, or he would… well, just explode a path through the forest.

Ochako tried and failed to imagine an outcome that didn’t involve explosions; Bakugou and stealth were words not meant for the same sentence. Ever.

Thinking about it, she couldn’t recall a single time Bakugou had worked harmoniously with someone else. It was his way or the highway; everyone else had to tag along or be caught in the crossfire, even though – through sheer tenacity and skill – his reckless bravura always landed him top of the class. Which probably explained why the teachers turned a blind eye to his vulgarity, and why they’d resorted to somewhat unorthodox means to keep him enrolled.

Which brought her to her mission of… talking to him? Or something? Aizawa had been frustratingly vague; something about budgeting, therapists, suspension and zen.

Wait… Was the real test whether she could deduce Aizawa-sensei’s puzzle? Was _she_ going to get suspended if she failed?

“Ochako-chan, we’re going outside to refresh our survival skills, _giro_. Are you okay? You’re pinker than usual.”

Ochako lifted her head from her hands and blinked up at Tsuyu, who peered curiously down at her from in front of her desk. “Oh – ah! Yes! I-I’m fine! Just thinking! About survival! And – and zen!”

Tsuyu tilted her head. “Zen?”

Kirishima laughed as he walked past, hands tucked behind his head. “You’ll need it bein’ paired up with Lord Explosion Murder. I’ll bet money he won’t last five minutes without turning the forest into a bomb site.”

Ochako lifted a hand to shush him before Bakugou heard, but as their subject in question stalked past, he made no sign of having heard, or didn’t care if he had, and simply shoved Kirishima towards the door.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Being ignored was usually a sign that Bakugou wasn’t _too_ angry. Or was it the opposite? _Darn it. I should ask Midoriya for his notes._

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tsuyu asked.

Ochako pumped the air with both fists, feeling nervous heat creep across her cheeks. “YES! Everything! Will! Be! Fine! I’m really really really good at talking – I mean, uh, _stealthily surviving_!”

* * *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully outside, where the frigid temperatures set the tone for their upcoming challenge. Bakugou displayed his usual moody indifference every time she sidled up to him during the demonstrations, but she didn’t let that dishearten her. She’d be spending a lot of time with him starting tomorrow, anyway.

As they headed back to the dorms to warm up around the dinner table, Ochako wondered why she, of all people, had been picked to try to inspire his character reform. Hanging around Midoriya meant she and Bakugou rarely crossed paths, even if he wasn’t particularly unpleasant to her – no more than he was to anyone else, at any rate. She couldn’t begin to imagine how to approach the subject with him; any kind of critique of his character was met with fiery rebuke, dismissal, and literal explosions, and telling him to ‘calm down’ was about as useful as dumping water on an electrical fire. If he wouldn’t listen to the teachers or his parents or his closest peers, then what chance did she have?

Slumping miserably onto a couch in the communal area, she didn’t notice Midoriya next to her until he leaned into her field of vision.

“You’ll be okay, Uraraka-san. Kaachan isn’t so bad. I’m sure he’ll get used to you after a few hours or so, and then maybe you’ll be able to have a semi-normal conversation without being burned!” He grinned brightly, implying he wasn’t even slightly joking, and not for the first time she wondered how he could still adore Bakugou despite the verbal and physical abuse the blond subjected him to on a daily basis.

“I know he’s a good guy deep down,”Ochako whispered, so as not to be overhead by Bakugou’s freaky mega-hearing, “but he doesn’t work well in teams! I think I’m going to fail this test. I mean… Can you imagine him walking quietly through a forest? Or quietly reading a map? Or just being quiet in general?”

“Well, if anything can be said about Kaachan, it’s that he’s full of surprises! And if anyone can do it, you can, Uraraka-san. You’re the -”

“Oi, Round Face.” Bakugou’s gruff tenor cut through the yammering of Class A as he trudged towards the couch, hands wedged in his pockets and eyes narrowed. “You better eat a proper meal tonight, ‘cause if you slow me down tomorrow I’ll tie you to a tree and leave you to freeze overnight while I finish the assignment alone. This ain’t a damn pleasure hike for you to piss around on, and I won’t be held back by a hamster-faced, vomiting, mecha-wannabe. Got it!?”

Ochako’s mixture of anger, fright and accord amalgamated into a very embarrassing squeak, but before she could form whole sentences, Bakugou turned on his heel and stalked away, ignoring Midoriya’s chiding.

Once he was gone, Midoriya pinned her with a reassuring grin. “See? He’s concerned about you!”

“Wha-? How was that concern?”

“He wants you to eat properly so you’re at full strength, which means he wants to work as partners! If he didn’t care, he would’ve just gone to bed without saying anything and abandoned you at the start line.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Deku-kun.” Ochako sank further into the couch, sighing, then glanced sideways at him. “Hey, um… this might sound weird, but as you grew up with Bakugou, do you know if he has anything that… calms him down?”

Midoriya blinked at her a few times, then puffed out his cheeks. “I don’t know if ‘calm’ is the right word, but he can be very focused, you know? He’s only angry when he’s around people, but alone he can be very quiet and self-reflective.”

 _So he probably knows his faults but doesn’t care_ , Ochako reflected miserably. _Which makes my job all the more difficult._ She shook herself, then sat up straight and hit her fist into her palm, nostrils flaring. “I can do it!”

“That’s the spirit!” Midoriya cheered, standing up. “I’ll get us some curry. We’ve got a long few days ahead of us, so we better eat an extra-large portion!”

Ochako’s smile quickly faded as Midoriya scuttled away. He was right about one thing: it was going to be a long few days.

* * *

The cold was a physical slap across Ochako’s cheeks as she hopped off the coach’s steps onto the frosty ground, and she wondered not for the first time if this test was actually a punishment for something Class A had done wrong. To say that Northern Kansai was absolutely freezing this time of year was a huge understatement, but -

“At least it’s not snowing,” she mumbled into her scarf.

Beside her, Bakugou cracked his knuckles and scowled at the glittering canopy of Kareko Forest. The cold inhibited his quirk, which had undoubtedly worsened his mood. In fact, the teachers had probably picked cold terrain for that reason; if he couldn’t blast through the challenge, it meant more time she could spend trying to get him to talk, or calm down, or whatever they wanted her to do. Honestly, she still wasn’t completely sure.

“Here are your supplies,” Aizawa said as he dropped at their feet two hefty packs, “and your map.” His gaze fixed on Bakugou. “You get _one_ map and _one_ compass, so _do not incinerate them_.”

“I don’t need a shitty map!” Bakugou barked, tossing both the compass and map at Ochako, who fumbled to catch them. “I’ll find the item with my instincts, then burn a path straight through this dumb forest! Walk behind me, Moon-face!”

And with that, he sprinted towards the treeline. Ochako glanced fretfully between his retreating figure and Aizawa, before yelling, “You can count on me, Aizawa-sensei!”, then hurried after him.

* * *

Kareko Forest was a sprawling labyrinth of tapering pine trees that clustered together so thickly the world below was dipped in permanent shadow. Here the temperature plunged another few degrees, and Ochako thanked the gods for her thermals and thick coat as she sprinted to close the gap between her and Bakugou. Clearly he wasn’t wasting anytime, though she was glad he wasn’t using his quirk to blast through the trees. He was taking that part of the test seriously, at least.

Bakugou kept a relentless pace as he cut a path through spindly shrubs, curling ferns and fallen trees, lit by watery, mid-morning light. He seemed fixated on a single direction, driven by his usual fervor, and didn’t seem to tire even after an hour of running.

Ochako, on the other hand, was getting tired of keeping her counsel on his uncanny sense of direction. Or at least what she hoped was an uncanny sense of direction.

“This isn’t a race, Bakugou-kun! Slow down, okay? One of us will twist an ankle!”

Bakugou spun around and fixed her with a molten look. “By one of us, you mean _you_ , Pink Cheeks. You think I’m gonna let the others beat me there? I gotta be first in and first out! No hesitation!”

“But you don’t even know where you’re going!” she bleated, tugging her sleeve free of a low-hanging pine branch. “We should at least look at the map before we head deeper into the forest.”

“Maps are for pussies! You ever see a hero consult a map before headin’ for the target? You gotta use your instincts!”

“This is an orienteering exercise,” she reminded him, pulling the map from her pocket. “Besides, how do you expect to be first if you waste time running in circles?”

“Don’t put me in the same loser class as you, idiot!” he roared, then with frightening speed he snatched the map out of her hand.

“Hey!” She lamely tried to take it back, but he pushed her out of arm’s reach and snorted.

“Tch, this is baby stuff. It’s not even that far! They could have at least made it a challenge. I’ve been goin’ the right way this whole time!”

 _So he hadn’t been sure, after all._ “Let me see. There might be different routes –“

“Maps are for pussies!” Bakugou declared, and the map exploded in his hand.

Ochako watched the ash drift to the ground, mouth agape. “Bakugou! You… You… _Why did you do that?”_

Bakugou smirked, baring his teeth. “That annoyed look doesn’t suit you, Cheeks. Well, I don’t have time to waste on dead-weights. If you don’t trust me, then get lost.”

Ochako blinked at him. “Of _course_ I trust you! The issue is _you_ don’t trust _me_. What if we get separated? I would’ve at least liked to look at it!”

Bakugou’s smirk crumpled into a scowl. “You don’t have to. I’ll get us there! All you need to do is follow me like the boring extra you are. Now stop wasting my time! We’re headin’ north-west!”

He turned and stomped away, leaving Ochako to stare morosely at the remains of the map. At least she still had the compass – and now she’d learned the hard way that entrusting important mission items to Bakugou wasn’t always the best idea.

_Not a good start._


	2. Saying Please Isn't That Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one place Ochako can hide the compass where Bakugou won't look. All he has to do is say please.

  
**Saying Please Isn't That Hard**

The hours passed by in silence as Ochako followed Bakugou’s elusive route through the forest. Usually this would have irked her, but his furious pace spared no time for small talk, and all she could do was hurry after him while minding for rabbit holes and raised tree roots.

Around mid-morning the frost thawed to reveal the lush hues of the forest floor, even though the temperature didn’t budge from the edge of sub-zero. The pines grew more ancient the deeper they ventured, their trunks thickening and twisting around rocky outcroppings, and between the canopy Ochako glimpsed mountains that loomed over the forest like giant tombstones.

As the sun peaked and began its downward arc across the sky, she finally acknowledged her rumbling stomach, and called after him to slow down so they could take a break.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he yelled without looking back. “We don’t need to take a break if we get to the statue quickly. We gotta get there first!”

“We won’t get there at all if we collapse from hunger.”

“Eat while you walk, idiot!”

“Bakugou-kun, please. Can we just stop for ten minutes? Aizawa-sensei has packed us camping equipment, which means this is gonna take at least two days. If you use up all your stamina now then –“

Bakugou whirled on her, eyes flashing, and she skidded to a stop before she crashed into him.

“ _My_ stamina?” He sneered. “If you’re so tired already then take a damn nap! I won’t stop ya, but I sure as hell won’t wait for you either! I’ll be there and back again while you’re still napping. Didn’t I tell ya? I don’t take on dead-weights!”

“Then how do you expect to rescue people?” Ochako countered. “Are you gonna leave behind the injured to die while you go on ahead to take all the glory?”

He visibly balked, then his sneer widened. “You ain’t injured, idiot. You’re just bein’ pathetic.”

“I’m being _sensible_! If you leave me behind then you’ll fail the test, because this is about working _with_ your partner. I’m trying to make sure you get proper rest and food.”

“I don’t need you lookin’ out for me!” He tried to conjure explosions to empathize his point, but they spluttered weakly above his palms before fizzling out with an anticlimactic pop. He glanced at them, scowling, then shook his hands and tutted.

She raised her eyebrows curiously. “Is it the cold?”

“Mind your business!” he yelled, then abruptly plonked himself on the ground. “Well!? Don’t just stand there, Air-head! You got ten minutes to eat your stupid lunch before I leave!”

“That goes for you too.” Ochako perched on the edge of a fallen trunk and released her quirk on her rucksack, letting it fall to the ground at her feet. She rooted through the outer pockets and retrieved two protein bars, then tossed one to Bakugo. He snatched it out of the air, tore off the wrapper with his teeth and wolfed it down in two bites, before turning his glare on no particular point in the forest, chin propped moodily on his palm.

 _Phew, he’s a handful,_ she mused as she took a more delicate bite out of her own bar. _But_ _at least he stopped. I doubt he would have if he’d been partnered with Deku or Todoroki. In fact, he probably would’ve left them behind. So, I guess that’s something._

She finished the rest of the bar, then grinned brightly at Bakugou. “Thanks for letting me rest, Bakugou-kun! I feel much better now! You’re the best partner!”

He glared at her over the top of his palm. “What’s with that lame, empty praise? I don’t need it! If you’re done then quit yappin’ so we can get moving. I don’t want Deku gettin’ there before me.”

Ochako hurriedly jumped to her feet and pulled on her rucksack as Bakugou stalked away. This time she managed to close the distance between them so she could be overheard, though of course he made sure she couldn’t walk alongside him, much less in front.

She surreptitiously checked the compass. Still heading north-west. Clearly he wasn’t all bravado, then.

Now mildly reassured that they weren’t wandering in circles, she decided to start her end of the mission, and wracked her brain for a way to get him to relax around her.

“So um… Bakugou-kun, what do you like to do in your spare time?”

“Hah? What are you goin’ on about? I fucking hate small talk and this ain’t a pleasure hike. Focus on the objective.”

“Well, yeah but… it’d be weird walking in silence the whole way, and at U.A. you’re always so…” _Angry_ , she wanted to say, but thought better of it. “…Busy with Kirishima and Kaminari-kun, so we never really get to talk.”

“’Cause I ain’t interested in what you have to say. You’re a boring nobody.”

Ochako felt a flash of hurt sweep through her, which was kind of ridiculous considering Bakugou said that to pretty much everyone, including Kirishima and Kaminari. “How do you know that? You don’t know me at all! What’s my favorite color?”

“Pink,” Bakugou replied.

Ochako pouted. “Lucky guess.”

“Hardly. You’re just boring and predictable.”

Acting on impulse, Ochako levitated a nearby pebble and shot it at the back of his head. It bounced off his skull with a satisfying _plip_ , but her humor was short lived when he rounded on her, eyes blazing and teeth bared.

“ _What the fuck was that for_?”

“Couldn’t predict that, could you?” she remarked tartly.

“I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit!”

“Now who’s being predictable?”

Bakugou visibly bristled, clenching his teeth and going red in the face, and all too late Ochako remembered why she was with him in the first place. Gods, she was _not_ doing a good job.

“Hehe, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she said, waving affably in an attempt to calm him down. “Keep leading the way!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Bakugou howled, but resumed stomping in a general north-westerly direction. “And don’t ask weird questions!”

She jogged to keep pace with him, refusing to give up as she recalled Aizawa’s words during her briefing.

_‘He needs to learn how to express himself in an effective, non-threatening manner, which is a difficult task considering he’s used to people submitting to his abrasive commands. In that respect, he’s rarely challenged, and it will take some time and patience to break through his initial reactions.’_

Ochako inhaled sharply and bolstered her resolve. “Skate boarding!”

“Hah?”

“That’s my guess!”

“This ain’t a fucking guessing game, Round-face.”

“Is that a no?”

“No!”

“No, you don’t skateboard?”

“No, I’m not playing this stupid game, now shut the fuck up –“

“Tennis!”

“I swear to god I will literally – “

“Poker! Ice hockey! Bowling! Karaoke! Aquascaping!”

“What the _fuck_ is aquascaping?”

“Oh, well, it’s where you design fish tanks to look really cool and –“

“You know what? I don’t give a shit. Just shut up or I’ll blow you into bits so small they’ll need to identify you using your damn _teeth_!”

Ochako let the silence play between them for a moment, sucking on her bottom lip, then hopped a little closer to him and said, “Flower arranging?”

Bakugou whirled, conjuring miniature flames on his palms as he yelled, “ _Mountain climbing!_ Happy now? I go mountain climbing! For fuck’s sake, who fucking cares, anyway? Just shut up and leave me the hell alone!”

Ochako clapped her hands together, smiling brightly. “Eeeehh!? That’s so cool, Bakugou-kun! I never knew that! Do you go climbing a lot?”

Bakugou’s fury settled into mild annoyance as he carried on walking with his back to her, shoulders hunched defensively. “No. Sometimes. At weekends. When it’s not cold.”

“In the summer?”

“That’s generally when it’s not cold, idiot.”

“Do you climb the big ones?”

“Of course I climb the big ones! What’s the point if it doesn’t challenge me?”

“Do you have all the gear? Like the – the rope thingys that let you scale the sheer cliffs? And – and the gloves and the shoes and stuff?”

“I guess.”

“Can I come with you sometime?”

“What? Why? You can just float up the mountain, idiot!”

Ochako finally managed to walk alongside him, and she leaned forward while she walked to catch his eye. “That wouldn’t be much of a challenge, right? Anyway, I wanna work on building more muscle mass! Gunhead-san says my technique is good, but I’m not that strong, so I gotta do more strength exercises. I hear rock climbing is pretty good for that.”

“I don’t care about your dumb exercises – and don’t walk in front of me!” Bakugou hollered, stomping ahead of her. He sniffed loudly, then rolled his shoulders in an awkward manner before adding, “But I guess you can come, so long as you don’t slow me down. Or bring Deku.”

Ochako let him take the lead, her smile widening. _Got him!_

* * *

Four hours later, it was beginning to grow dark. Ochako’s legs ached like she’d been wearing two-ton weights around her ankles, and she was dirty, sweaty and generally cranky. The darkening forest provided a changeless back drop to their endless walking, and even the lilting birdsong and soft rustle of pines was becoming tedious. And if Ochako felt like that, she couldn’t imagine Bakugou’s growing ire.

Well, actually, she could. His body language made it pretty clear.

Eventually, she said out loud the thought that had been plaguing her for the last few hours. “Bakugou-kun, it’s okay to admit if you’re lost.”

His shoulders shot up to his ears and he stomped a little harder through the dirt. “Shut up, dumbass! I’m not lost!”

She clamped down her own irritation and injected a positive note into her tone. “Look, you’re better than me at pretty much everything and we both know it; I’m not interested in trying to upstage you, so you might as well drop the high-and-mighty attitude.”

He spun around to confront her. “The fuck did you just call me? You lookin’ for a fight, Pink Cheeks?”

She waved her hands nervously. “N-no! I just… want to know if we’re lost, so we can figure out how to get back on track. And then I’ll follow behind you, okay?”

“Damn right you will!” He blew air through his nose, glaring at the nearby brush. “Just thought we’d be there by now, is all. There are only enough rations for two days: one day there, one day back, right? So we should’ve arrived before it got dark.”

“Soooo… you’re lost?”

“We’re headin’ in the right direction!” he snarled. “Just… can’t find it in the dark. Gimmie the compass.”

Ochako reflexively clutched the compass in her jacket pocket. “No way! You’ll blow it up and then we really will be screwed!”

His expression darkened. “Give it to me. Now.”

“Oh, like I did with the map?”

“Maps are for pussies!”

“What about compasses?”

“ _Just give me the damn compass_!”

This time she was ready when he made a grab for her and she ducked out of his reach, ramming her hand into her pocket and clamping her fingers firmly around the compass. She thought of sending it hurtling into the air but didn’t trust him not to go blasting after it, blowing the stealth part of mission if he breached the canopy. Instead, she picked the next reasonable course of action.

She tugged the compass out of her pocket as he lunged forward to snatch it from her, then rammed it down the front of her coat and thermals and into her bra.

He froze mid-lunge, hand outstretched, eyes fixed on the compass’ hiding spot. The shocked expression on his face might have sent her into hysterics if not for the fierce blush whipping across her cheeks. Their eyes met in an awkward, startled sort of way, then he spun sharply on his heel, surprise dissolving into anger.

“Tch – you frickin’ pervert!”

“Wha-what? I-I’m not a pervert! I just don’t want you to blow it up!”

“I won’t!”

“I don’t believe you!” she yelled, then caught her rising temper and took a breath. _Don’t let him rile you._ “You can have it if you ask nicely.”

He prickled again and clenched his fists, trembling with rage. “Give me the compass _now_!”

“Say please.”

“ _NO!_ ” Explosions burst from his open palms in what was probably meant to be an intimidating display of power, but instead they went off like a wet firework, spitting in the growing dark. The pair stared lamely at his hands, until he tucked them self-consciously under his armpits, his face a mask of molten rage. “Fine! I can’t see the stupid compass in the dark anyway. We’re settin’ up camp and in the morning you’re gonna give me that compass or I will take it by force!”

“We’ll see.” Ochako placed her hands on her hips, squinting around in the twilight. “Should we set up camp here?”

He scowled at her, clearly irked by her deflection, then scanned the forest. They’d stopped at the bottom of a sloping incline, and that combined with a cluster of pine saplings provided some protection from the elements. Already Ochako could feel the temperature dropping and was deeply thankful Aizawa had given them tents and thermal sleeping bags, even if it made the rucksack rather cumbersome.

“Here is fine,” Bakugou declared. “I’ll start a fire.”

“Just a sec,” Ochako said, then ducked toward a notable clearing and ran her hands along the branches, rocks and fallen trunks. They lifted a meter into the air, then she shoved them well out of the way before letting them drop again, creating a rough circle clear of forest debris.

Bakugou grunted, then shoved past her and collected an armful of kindling and logs before chucking them unceremoniously in the clearing’s center. He lifted a hand and a few sparks crackled pitifully onto the wood. He growled, tried again, and after his fourth attempt the logs finally ignited.

He glanced sideways and noticed her watching. “You gotta problem, Pink Cheeks?”

Ochako dropped her backpack by the fire and peered curiously at him. “I thought your thermals negated the effect low temperatures have on your Quirk?”

“They do.”

“So… are you just having an off day, or…?”

Bakugou tore off his own backpack and started rummaging through its contents. “Mind your business!”

She opened her mouth to point out that her partner’s wellbeing _was_ her business but thought better of it. He was probably just cold and a few hours by the fire and a good night’s sleep would get him back to normal. Probably. Hopefully.

_Although maybe he won’t be able to blow up the compass now…_

They piled rocks around the fire to keep it from spreading, then pitched their tents nearby to catch the heat. The shadows thickened beneath the canopy until a shroud of impenetrable darkness encompassed the light of their campfire. Night creatures shuffled in the undergrowth, cracking branches, and owls hooted unseen from the boughs of trees. Otherwise, it was eerily silent.

Finishing off her night rations, Ochako rubbed her arms and peered into the darkness. “You think it’s safe out here?”

From the other side of the fire, Bakugou peered at her over the rim of a convenience store ramen pot. “You scared?”

“Well, the last time we were in a forest like this was at summer camp and ah…” She glanced at him, then trailed off. “You know.”

His scowl deepened and he dropped his gaze. The memory of being kidnapped was still a sore spot for him, and everyone knew it. “Who cares about that? I like bein’ outside, anyways.”

She brightened at this unexpected change in subject. “Oh yeah? Deku-kun said you’d spend your summers looking for bugs and playing in the streams. That sounds like fun!”

“Deku was a weird tag-a-long that didn’t know the meaning of ‘get lost’, and he was shit at catchin’ bugs. All he’d do is cry and complain like a damn baby. Would’ve been better if he wasn’t there at all.”

“He likes being with you,” Ochako said.

“I don’t give a shit what he likes!” Mumbling, he added, “Dunno why you hang out with that loser…”

“I am pretty cool,” she declared, grinning coyly. “Although, I’m not cool enough to hang out with you and Kirishima and Kaminari-kun.”

He kept his gaze fixed on the ramen. “Dunno about that…”

Ochako lifted her eyebrows. Was that a _compliment_? From _Bakugou_? No. Probably not. He was just being vague. Maybe he was tired. “Anyway. I’m sure the teachers have us on close watch and the surrounding area on lock down. That’s probably why they gave us a map, so we wouldn’t, you know, wander too far out of bounds.”

Bakugou downed the ramen broth then angrily threw the container over his shoulder. “Shut up about the stupid map – I get it! And we’re not lost! Now go to bed, compass-tits, I want an early start tomorrow.”

“A-ah! Do _not_ start calling me that!”

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well like!”

Ochako left him by the fire and crawled inside her tent, feeling like she hadn’t made much progress.

_Tomorrow. I have to try harder tomorrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ochako has a lot more patience than I do lol


	3. Look Before You Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ochako tries to convince him that girls have to climb trees to pee

  
**Look Before You Leap**

Despite the cold and unyielding ground, sheer exhaustion paved the way for a good night’s sleep, and Ochako woke the next morning feeling surprisingly well rested. Reluctantly peeling herself away from the warmth of her sleeping bag, she layered up her thermals and crawled out of her tent onto the frost-swept forest floor. The campfire had burned down to embers in a vat of ash, but with some difficulty and a few firelighters, she managed to get it going again, then squatted by the rising flames while inspecting the camp.

No sign of Bakugou, and his tent was still zipped shut. Weird. Bakugou was known as one of the early risers in the U.A. dorms, mostly because he was often the first to go to bed (earning him the nickname Baku-ojiisan from Kaminari). Ochako glanced at her wristwatch: 7.34am. Definitely late for him.

She stuck a pot of water on a stand over the fire to boil, then hesitantly approached his tent and tapped on the front. “Bakugou? Are you awake?”

No answer. She called again, louder this time, but still no answer.

Chewing on a nail, she hopped nervously from foot to foot while debating what to do. Busting into his tent seemed like an inappropriate invasion of privacy and a sure-fire way to trigger his temper, but she also needed to wake him up and make sure he was okay.

 _He’s probably just really tired,_ she reasoned, half turning away. But also, maybe he wasn’t. But also maybe he was? _Ugh_!

She decided to give him another twenty-five minutes and retreated to her tent to clean herself (as best she could) with hygiene wipes, and to brush her teeth and hair. She stretched her sore limbs until they felt nimbler, then returned to the fire to make tea and cook rice.

When he still hadn’t emerged at 8am, she mustered her resolve and approached his tent again.

“Bakugou, you gotta wake up! I… I’m coming in, okay? Right now! So… so yell if you don’t want me to! I’m unzipping the tent so this is your last chance! I’m doing it! Right! Now! Unzippppping…”

She peeped shyly through the unzipped tent flap and was relieved to find only an unremarkable mound inside a sleeping bag. When he still didn’t respond, she crawled inside and hunkered over him. The bag was zipped all the way up, covering everything but his closed eyes and tufts of blond hair, and in the dim light she thought she saw a faint sheen of sweat across his brow.

Without thinking, she reached out and rested her hand against his forehead, and at the contact his eyes snapped open.

“Bakugou-kun,” she said, “you’re burning up!”

He blinked blearily at her for a few moments, wide-eyed and perplexed – the first time she’d ever seen an expression on him untinged by anger – then he shot up and his brows pulled into a furious scowl.

“What the fuck are you doin’?”

His yell was muffled by the sleeping bag zipped over his mouth, and despite her concern Ochako snorted with laughter. He looked like a very angry caterpillar.

Of course, her laughter fueled his anger, and he wriggled his arms free to unzip the bag and yell at her. “This is my personal space, you frickin’ pervert! What kind of weirdo touches people while they’re asleep!”

Ochako backed up, holding up her palms in a pacifying gesture. “I-I’m sorry! It’s just you wouldn’t wake up and I got worried so came to check on you, then I noticed you were sweating so I –“

“Of course I’m sweatin’!” he raged, wiping the back of his wrist across his brow. “I’m wearin’ thermals in a double sleeping bag!”

She cocked her head at him. His complexion was a shade paler than normal, his bloodshot eyes ringed with dark circles, and a bead of sweat traced a path down his cheek. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? I have some medicine in my bag if –“

“I said I’m fine!” he yelled. “I’m up, ain’t I? Now get outta my tent!”

She retreated with another apology, then returned to the fire to check on the rice. It was cooked, and while she spooned portions into wooden bowls, she thought uneasily back to Bakugou’s medical report.

He emerged ten minutes later with a toothbrush sticking out the corner of his mouth and peered distastefully at the frost before squatting beside the fire. After spitting toothpaste and gargling water, he accepted Ochako’s offer of breakfast and dumped a sachet of spice and hot sauce over the rice before practically inhaling it.

“Feeling better?” she asked brightly after he’d finished eating.

He glared at her while picking food out of his teeth. “I told you: I’m not sick! Don’t ask me about it again.”

“Can you use your quirk this morning?”

“What do I look like, a performing monkey?” He abruptly stood up. “We’ve wasted enough time, so let’s pack up and move out!”

She wanted to tell him she’d already been up for an hour but decided against it. He clearly wasn’t in the mood.

They kicked dirt over the fire and packed up the camp, and within fifteen minutes they were heading into the forest. Bakugou’s pace was a touch slower than it had been yesterday, allowing her to keep pace close behind with relative ease, much to the relief of her aching calves.

The forest was alive with birdsong, and the crystalline canopy was motionless above them. Cracks through the branches revealed an azure sky, but Ochako’s breath still steamed about her face in the cold. She shifted her gaze to the back of Bakugo’s head.

“You know where we’re going?”

“Forward!” he barked.

“Okaaay. In any particular direction or…?”

Bakugou huffed, then gestured vaguely to the mountains. “The statue’s position was marked at the edge of a lake between the two mountains. The lake is fed by a river that should be nearby; if we follow that we’ll find the statue in no time.”

“And the river is…?”

“North-west.” He shot her an irritated look over his shoulder. “If somebody’s tits would relinquish the compass, this would go a lot faster.”

“Sure,” she said, “if you say please.”

“I won’t grovel to you, compass-tits!” he hollered, then returned his gaze to the path ahead.

Sighing, she pulled the compass out of her pocket (it was way too cold to have against her skin, not that she’d tell him that) and confirmed they were still heading north-west. Good. How far could the river be?

* * *

Her mother used to tell Ochako that she had two quirks: the first was, of course, manipulating gravity; the second was her ability of insight. Ochako wouldn’t call it a quirk, but apparently she was very good at seeing through people’s facades. And if anyone was the king of façade, it was Bakugou. Anger reflexes aside, he was extremely good at hiding weaknesses, and if he’d been partnered with anyone else, he probably would’ve gotten away with it.

But insight was like her second Quirk, so he couldn’t hide anything from her.

“Let’s take a rest, Bakugou-kun.”

He paused to look back at her, throwing up an arm to brace himself against a nearby trunk. It might have looked casual to anyone else, but Ochako could tell he was using it as a support. His face was uncharacteristically flushed, his eyes sunken, and sweat was pouring down his face despite the chill temperature.

Unfortunately, Ochako wasn’t good at hiding her own feelings, and Bakugou immediately noticed the look of open concern on her face.

“I don’t need to rest, dumbass! We’re almost there, so keep up or you’ll be eatin’ my dust!” He shoved away from the tree, stumbled a little, and almost managed to hide the slump to his shoulders and his ragged breathing.

Almost.

Ochako hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. There was no doubt in her mind now that he was sick, and she worried it was linked to his medical report. They needed to reach the river as soon as possible so he could slow down and rest, but right now he had a point to prove, so getting him to stop was near impossible, especially if he suspected they had stopped for his benefit – his self-perceived ‘weakness’.

It was up to her, then, so she voiced the first excuse she could think of before she could stop herself. “ _I gotta pee_!”

He froze, shoulders twitching in either annoyance or embarrassment, then without turning around he waved his hand. “Tch, fine! But hurry up! Damn women and their stupid tiny bladders…”

“Everybody pees!” she blurted, then ducked behind the nearest tree before he could retaliate _. Nice one_ , she though morosely, pressing her hands against her pink cheeks. _That showed him._

Creeping away until there was a good distance between them, she picked a location where the canopy was thinnest, then pressed her hands against her chest. Her body immediately became feather-light, and she floated up and up, higher and higher, until she reached the thick tangle of branches overhead. With some difficulty, she wormed her way between the prickly needles until she reached the top, then poked her head between a gap in the canopy.

The pine forest unrolled in all directions, an endless sea of green, following the rise and fall of the craggy landscape around the base of two mountains capped in snow. The air was crisp and fresh, laced with the rich smell of dirt and pine. Above her, birds of prey rode the updrafts, circling in a clear sky.

Shifting her gaze to the north-west, she spotted a clearing in the forest at the base of a sharp drop, where the sun lanced brightly off a glittering surface. The lake? She pulled the compass out of her pocket. North-west. So they _were_ going in the right direction! She felt a pang of guilt for not trusting Bakugou’s instincts, but ultimately, she needed to be sure – for his sake. The lake couldn’t be more than an hour’s trek away!

Feeling hopeful, she wriggled back into the canopy then pressed her fingertips together.

She descended carefully through the interlocking boughs, and just when she was beginning to feel pleased that her cunning plan had worked, her descent came to a sharp, sudden halt. She struggled, frowning, but wouldn’t budge. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the jagged tip of a branch snagged on her jacket.

_Okay. Okay. Don’t panic. You just need to take your jacket off. Make yourself weightless again to relieve the tension across the front and then –_

The top of the tree exploded.

Suddenly she was hurtling to the ground head over heels with the branch still jammed through her jacket. Her hands moved instinctively, and she managed to float herself seconds before hitting the ground. Eyes still clamped shut in terror, she released her quirk and crashed the remaining foot to the forest floor.

When she cracked open a lid, Bakugou was glaring down at her.

“Since when do girls need to climb trees to pee?” he snarled.

Laying uncomfortably on her back with the branch between her shoulder blades, she lifted her hands and tittered nervously. “Ummm… since… now?”

Bakugou grabbed the front of her coat and hauled her to her feet, then reached around and yanked the branch free before exploding it to splinters in his hand. “You didn’t trust me after all!”

Ochako tentatively reached out to him in a placative gesture. “No, it’s… it’s not like that! I just wanted to see how far we had to go! I know you –“

He slapped her hand away. “You risked the mission! We would’ve been disqualified if the teachers had seen you!”

“I was careful! I just poked my head above the canopy for a second. Besides, I don’t think that’s against the rules – they just don’t want people flying all over the place –“

“I don’t care about your dumb excuses! If you don’t think I can find it then you… then you…” He stuttered to a halt, breath hitching in his chest and face contorting. “Y-ou… you… ah… ah…”

Ochako blinked dumbly at him. “Bakugou? Are you –“

“Ah- ahh-CHOO _OO_!”

He managed to cover his face just in time to spare her from being sprayed with his sneeze, but from the palm of his free hand a fierce explosion blasted sideways across the forest, knocking Ochako off her feet. She hit a tree trunk hard enough to knock the wind out of her, then fell limply against its roots.

A pause, and then he sneezed again, this one almost eclipsed by a second, ferocious explosion. Ochako curled into a ball to minimize impact from falling debris and smelt her hair singeing in the heat. Nearby, a tree toppled sideways with a crash that shook the forest floor.

Finally, the world fell silent. She peeped between her arms.

Bakugou stood panting with his legs braced wide apart, arm still thrown over his face, and to his left the nearby forest was in ruin. Wood was charred black, trees were toppled or in splinters, the brush was on fire, and birds were hastily retreating in a hail of obnoxious squawking.

Ochako hopped to her feet with a wince, then ran over to him. “Bakugou-kun, are you alright? What… what happened?”

He brushed her out of his personal space, then frowned at his palms. “Nothing! It was nothing, alright? Don’t fucking talk to me.” He took a step back and staggered, and she darted forward to catch him before he fell. He leaned heavily on her for a second, and on impulse she made him weightless enough to ease her burden.

“You’re sick, Bakugou. Please, just sit down for a moment –“

“No!” He tried to slip away but was thrown off by his sudden weightlessness and her firm grip around his torso. “Get offa me, Moon-face! I’ll fucking kill you! You hear me! Let go of me _right_ _now_!”

He lashed out with no real malice but as she instinctively dodged back, he slipped out of her grip. She released her quirk as he glared at her at arm’s length, blinking through a curtain of sweat, and suddenly it clicked into place for her.

His fever had made him sweat more than usual, and that combined with his weakened state meant he was struggling to control his quirk. He’d managed to keep it together, but the momentary loss of control when he sneezed…

_Hoo boy. Not good._

“I’m calling Aizawa-sensei,” she told him, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Don’t fight me on this. We can postpone the test to another time when you’re well again. Right now it’s too –“

He launched forward and snatched the phone from her hand before she could react, then jumped back out of reach, glaring a challenge in her direction. “One step, and I’ll blow it up.”

“Bakugou! Stop being such a jerk! I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your damn help! Go runnin’ to Aizawa like a cry baby or follow me; I don’t care which!”

And suddenly he was running full pelt through the forest away from her, darting between trees and jumping over roots. Ochako hesitated for only a heartbeat before taking off after him, her mind suddenly returning to the view of the landscape from above the balcony.

“Bakugou, wait! It isn’t safe! _Bakugou_!”

Branches whipped her face and brambles snagged her ankles as she barreled heedlessly through the undergrowth, keeping her focus on the blur of black darting between the trees. His illness hampered his speed and prevented him from using his quirk efficiently, and for that she grateful. It was perhaps the only reason she could keep up with him at all.

“Bakugou, please! Wait for me! The lake isn’t in the this part of the forest, it’s –“

One minute he was there, and the next he wasn’t. She heard him bellow somewhere ahead as her legs propelled her recklessly forward until she broke through the treeline and –

The ground fell away, like a rug swept out from under her feet. The forest spread out beneath her, and she was falling, falling off the edge of a sheer cliff face. A screech of terror clawed up her throat, but it was swallowed by the roar of a waterfall to her left, which tumbled over the rocks and down nearly two hundred feet before crashing into the glittering river below.

Snared by gravity, she was pulled down until she was flat facing, and she spotted Bakugou beneath her, hurtling toward the lake. Even hitting water, he would likely die on impact.

“ _BAKUGOU!”_

An explosion spluttered out his left hand, turning him in midair until he spotted her above him, then another tiny blast closed the space between them. They collided in a tangle of limbs, his forehead smacking her chin and her elbow planting into his sternum, but she wrapped her legs around him, palms flat on his chest, and activated her quirk.

They snapped to a halt seconds before they hit the lake. Adrenalin pounded in Ochako’s ears and her entire body trembled. The waterfall pounded the water behind them, kicking up an icy spray, and merged with the river that snaked away between rows of pine.

“Oi, Round-face!”

Bakugou’s gruff voice brought to focus her current position. She was straddling him in midair, her thighs clamped around his hips and her hands pressed against his chest. Their eyes met and her cheeks erupted into flames. With a panicked ‘Eep!’ she deactivated her quirk, and he fell with an almighty splash into the river.

The moment her feet touched the river she reactivated her quirk and saved herself from getting soaked, but Bakugou wasn’t so lucky. He was whisked away by the turbulent current and she yelped as she lost sight of him.

“ _Bakugou_!”

Scanning the frothing peaks of the river, she spied his head as he breached the surface spluttering for air, then through the grace of the gods he hit the riverbank and managed to grab a cluster of overhanging roots. She levitated higher then released her quirk and controlled her downward trajectory to land in front of him. Grabbing hold of his forearms, she dragged him free from the current, and they both collapsed in a heap against the sodden bank.

“B-Bakugou-kun, are you alright?”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He heaved up water, then clambered unsteadily to his feet and staggered to the treeline. “I don’t need… don’t need your… don’t need your fucking… help…”

He managed four or five steps, then collapsed face-first onto the ground.


	4. Sweat It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hypothermia is a massive drag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kind words so far! I really appreciate the feedback :) Let me know your favorite parts in this chapter <3

  
**Sweat It Out**

Her initial response was to call Aizawa-sensei, but both their phones were water-damaged beyond repair, which was kind of her fault for panic-dropping him into the river. Not very professional. Worse still, Bakugou had relinquished his backpack to the river, so she was limited to one set of resources.

There was no time to hunt for Aizawa; Bakugou needed help quickly. He was soaked and unconscious and she needed to warm him up before hypothermia kicked in.

She dragged him a little further into the forest away from the waterfall’s spray, then started tugging off his wet clothes. She thanked the gods he wasn’t wearing his hero’s uniform with all its fiddly straps and buckles; she was able to peel off his thermal gear with little effort, embarrassment dulled by the situation’s urgency.

Tipping out the contents of her backpack, she retrieved her sleeping bag, the tent and her blankets, then rolled him onto the flat canvas of the tent to keep him off the ground. She dried him the best she could with the blanket, then swaddled him in the sleeping bag. His face was pale and his lips tinged slightly blue, but his breathing was strong and steady.

“I’m so sorry, Bakugou,” she whispered, pressing her hand to his forehead. “Stay strong, okay?”

She spent the next fifteen minutes gathering dry wood and igniting a fire as close to Bakugou as possible without burning him. Even then, he still felt cold, and she pursed her lips while contemplating the last-ditch effort to warm him up.

No – she couldn’t afford to procrastinate! This was a life or death situation.

_Get it together, Ochako!_

Gathering her courage, she wedged herself into the sleeping bag and laid on top of him. He would very likely kill her if he woke up and found her like this, but her body warmth would help stave off hypothermia, so he’d just have to suck it up.

At least, that’s what she told herself while dying of embarrassment; this was by far the closest she’d ever been to a guy, and she was acutely aware of every unfamiliar, angular contour of his body against hers.

On the plus side, her flaming hot cheeks would warm him up faster.

_It’s just first-aid. Just first-aid. You’d have done this for anyone. No biggie._

She wriggled to get comfortable against his clammy skin, then angled her face on his shoulder so she could keep an eye on his breathing. His lips were already looking less blue. Good.

A large part of her wanted to levitate above the canopy and find the teachers, but she didn’t want to leave him alone in such a critical condition. There was no guarantee the teachers were nearby – they were probably spread thin watching the other students too. The wisest course of action was to wait until he was stable, hope he didn’t immediately run off when he woke up, then end the exam prematurely.

Damn him, taking her phone like that. He really was an uncooperative ass, sometimes.

Aizawa’s words replayed through her mind. _Bakugou sweats a nitroglycerin-like substance through the endocrine glands in his body, but he channels it specifically to his palms so he can ignite it. He figured out at a young age that heightened emotion encourages sweat production, hence his constant state of habitual anger. Not a massive problem by itself, but a recent routine health check showed he has high blood pressure and traces of excess nitroglycerin in his blood stream, which… isn’t good. Even in small amounts it works to open arteries through the heart and brain. That combined with his high blood pressure has started giving him headaches and heart palpitations._

 _For the sake of his long-term health, he needs to learn to control his anger,_ Aizawa finished, _and recognize that no amount of power is worth damaging yourself for._

Ochako shifted her weight on top of Bakugou and pouted. _But why me though? Of course I want to help him, but I don’t know how… He doesn’t listen to anyone! He’s so obsessed with being the best he’ll sacrifice anything to get there – just like Deku._

The more she learned about quirks, the more she realized the human body hadn’t adapted fast enough to accommodate for such sudden, bizarre mutations; there was always some kind of backlash for their use. It wasn’t fair, but she supposed that’s what the training was for.

* * *

It felt like she’d closed her eyes for only a second when a hoarse, furious voice way too close to her ear jerked her out of an unexpected nap.

“What the actual _fuck!”_

Ochako reared back, shocked and disorientated, and fought against a tangle of thrashing limbs. She was kneed in the sternum and elbowed in the ribs before her fighting instincts kicked in and she used a Gunhead move to pin her assailant to the ground despite the awkward space.

Shaking off the dregs of sleep, she found herself straddling Bakugou – not for the first time that day - inside the partially unzipped bag, her hands clamped firmly around his wrists. Despite the unadulterated fury in his eyes, his face was a brilliant, cherry red.

Which would have been hilarious, if she wasn’t dying of embarrassment herself.

“Get,” Bakugou gritted, “the _fuck_ off me.”

Although, his flushed pallor wasn’t entirely down to embarrassment. He was sweating again and hot to the touch. Great. No hypothermia, but his fever hadn’t broken either.

“I will,” she said, “but you have to promise not to run away.”

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. If looks could kill, she was pretty sure she’d be dust right now. “Get. Off. Me.”

“Promise!”

“I will fucking _incinerate_ _you_!”

She leaned closer to his face, scowling. “ _Try it.”_

Something unreadable passed behind his wide eyes, something she couldn’t quite pinpoint, then he glanced to the side and turned a few shades pinker. “Tch. Fine. But we’re not even. Not by a long shot. And you… a-and… ah… _ahhh_ –“

Ochako scooted further down his hips into a position ten times more embarrassing right before two explosions fired out his palms. He sneezed twice, three times – the explosions progressively getting weaker– before the fit passed and his face settled into a look of annoyance.

“Get off me,” he rasped.

Ochako shifted her gaze above his head to the broken branches and smoking flora caught in a whirlwind of burnt leaves. She winced. “Okay.”

It was a little awkward shimmying up his naked torso now he was awake, but he turned his furious glare to the side while she squeezed out of the sleeping bag with minimal fuss. To her surprise, he zipped it right back up and closed his eyes again. He must have been exhausted. Hopefully that meant he wouldn’t go running off anytime soon.

Shoving down her discomfiture, she fetched water from the river to boil on the fire, then made some tea and dumped into it a sachet of soluble painkiller. Bakugou seemed to be drifting off to sleep again, so she gently patted the sleeping bag to wake him.

“Sorry, but you need to drink this.”

He cracked open an igneous eye to glare at her, then at the tea in her hand. “No.”

Ochako set her mouth into a firm line, clamping down her want to yell at him for being so darn stubborn. “Drink it, or I’ll find Aizawa and call off the test.”

He didn’t move.

“Look, we can’t finish the exam with you unwell like this,” she reasoned. “And I’ll definitely fail if Aizawa-sensei finds out I didn’t take care of my partner. There’s no time limit on the exam, so if you take the medicine and feel better, we can see this through. Together. So please… just drink it?”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, then he growled into the sleeping bag and sat up.

Before he could wriggle free, she held the cup to his lips. For a second, she fully expected him to spontaneously combust, but either he was either too tired or too sick to properly retaliate, because he let her feed him the drink without protest. He downed it in three large glugs, then slumped back down and rolled over so his back was facing her.

“Tastes like shit,” he muttered.

Which was as good of a thanks as she was going to get, she supposed.

She lowered the empty cup with a gratified sigh. It was a victory, no matter how small. Maybe he could be reasoned with, after all.

* * *

She let him sleep the rest of the day and busied herself setting up a temporary camp. Using sticks lashed together with cord, she constructed a washing line and hung his wet clothes over the fire to dry, then cleared the area of debris using her quirk.

After making sure he was definitely sound asleep, she explored the riverbank a little more, halfheartedly searching for his backpack. She levitated a fraction higher than the canopy and saw in the distance the lake wedged between the twin mountains. It was probably only a few hours away, but she wouldn’t let Bakugou know that until he was better.

She returned to camp as sunset flames crept across the sky and was relieved to find Bakugou still asleep by the fire. After throwing on a few more logs, it suddenly occurred to her that they’d have to share a tent. And they only had one sleeping bag.

Yikes.

She didn’t know whether she was angrier at Bakugou for running off a cliff like a dumb idiot, or at herself for dropping him in a river like a dumb idiot.

_Maybe we don’t make a good team after all…_

After setting up the tent, she crouched beside Bakugou to check on him. He had wriggled his torso loose of the sleeping bag at some point and was sprawled with his arms akimbo on his back, snoring loudly with his mouth open. That was… an improvement? Maybe?

She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Still burning up and drenched in sweat. Hm. Maybe not then.

Struck by an idea, she retrieved the hygiene wipes from her rucksack, then sat cross-legged next to him and gently wiped the sweat from his face. He murmured and stirred, frowning slightly, but didn’t wake. Once he was mostly sweat free, she poured drinking water over a clean wipe to cool it down, folded it and placed it over his forehead, then moved down to his hands.

Aizawa said Bakugou could sweat a substance similar to nitroglycerin all over his body, but his hands were so drenched in the stuff she was hard pressed to believe him. She gently stroked her thumb back and forth across his palm, pushing around the thin, oily liquid. There was a faint whiff of something sweet, like burnt caramel. Weird, she’d never noticed before – but then again, she’d never been this close to him.

“Can’t you go five minutes without gettin’ into my personal space?”

Ochako squeaked and dropped his hand into her lap, then guiltily shifted her gaze to meet his half-lidded stare. The flu medication caused drowsiness as a side effect, and it was beginning to show.

“What if I sneezed in my sleep?” he slurred.

“W-well that’s why I’m trying to clean them!” she said lamely, picking up a hygiene wipe. “I want at least half the forest still standing by the end of the exam.”

Bakugou grunted.

She wiped the palm of his hand, starting at his wrist and working her way along each finger. His sweat stuck to the skin with far more tenacity than normal sweat, perhaps because of its oilier consistency, so she took her time applying pressure in small circles across the pads of his hand.

In fact, there was something oddly relaxing about it. Maybe it was the birdsong or the babble of the river nearby, or the dying light playing through the pines. Or maybe it was the slow, monotonous movements that slowed her thoughts to a pleasant lull and made her eyelids droop and head nod against her chest -

“…feels nice…”

The soft murmur jostled her out of her stupor, and she glanced at Bakugou in surprise. His head was lolled to the side, eyes shut and breathing deeply, his face utterly smooth and free from any discomfort or trademark scowl. Fast asleep again.

Feeling a blush creep across her cheeks for perhaps the millionth time that day, she gently placed his hand by his side, then reached for the other.

* * *

As the light faded and the moon began its ascent across a sea of stars, Ochako roused Bakugou from slumber a second time. He grunted and groaned incoherently for the better part of a minute before finally coming to, then crossly grabbed the wet towel on his forehead and tossed it in the dirt.

“Don’ fuc’in to’ch me,” he slurred as Ochako tried to roll him toward the tent.

“Just get in the tent, you big doofus,” she said. “You can’t stay out here all night.”

“Hnnngh,” was his response, then very slowly and begrudgingly he shimmied out of the sleeping bag and trudged toward the tent, head slumped against his chest.

She guided him through the gap with one hand on his back, and he collapsed into the blankets like his whole body was made of lead. She’d wanted him to eat something before going back to sleep, but he was clearly exhausted and didn’t have an appetite, so she sat alone by the campfire drinking a bowl of instant soup and wishing to all hells that they hadn’t lost Bakugou’s supplies.

After eating, she took down Bakugou’s clothes from the line and took them into the tent. They smelt strongly of campfire smoke but at least they were dry, and considering the less-than-convenient sleeping arrangement she really wanted him to be dressed overnight. Mainly to keep him warm, of course. Not because she was still deeply, _deeply_ uncomfortable sleeping next to him basically naked.

She crawled into the tent and thumbed on a torch, then shook him awake again. Although, ‘awake’ was being overgenerous; the drugs combined with exhaustion had pushed him into an almost delirious state. He groaned and grumbled, throwing his arm over his eyes, but eventually she managed to get him to sit up and, with some difficulty, she helped him pull a thermal shirt over his head. Thankfully, he was able to tug on his trousers without assistance, though he left them undone and Ochako couldn’t bring herself to zip them up.

 _This is the weirdest exam I’ve ever taken_ , she mused while pressing her fingers against her cheeks to cool them. _Which is saying a lot, all things considering._

She wrapped more water-soaked hygiene wipes around his hands in hopes that he _wouldn’t literally explode her in his sleep_ , then unzipped the sleeping bag into a comforter and stiffly lay down beside him. He sprawled out on the blankets, all flailing limbs, and although she kept a hand’s width between them, it was still unspeakably awkward and strange sleeping so close to a boy, much less Bakugou, of all people.

 _Hero’s work,_ she told herself as she tucked the sleeping-bag-turned-comforter around them. _Totally professional, not-weird hero’s work._

Despite her exhaustion, it was a long time before she could get to sleep.


	5. Nuclear Warhead

  
  


_Warm_.

That single thought emerged from beneath a heavy mantle of sleep, prodding her awake. She stirred begrudgingly, pressing herself tighter against its source.

_So waaarm._

What was it? Her hands slid between cotton and firm warmth, and she breathed a contented sigh. She didn’t care, so long as it didn’t disturb this glorious moment. 

A hot breeze unrolled across her forehead, tousling her fringe, and prompted the return of her memory. Very rudely, and with an ample dose of horror.

Her eyes snapped open and she came face to face with a wide-eyed Bakugou. They were somehow locked in an embrace of tangled limbs; her legs were threaded between his, hands trailing up the back of his shirt, and his arms were somehow wrapped tightly around her waist, his face previously buried in her hair.

They shared perhaps the longest second of utter mortification, before leaping to opposite sides of the tent.

“A-ah!”

“Blargh! What the fuck!”

Ochako was pretty sure her cheeks were about to set the tent on fire, and no amount of face-clutching was going to stop it. “Suh-sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t realize – didn’t know –“

“ _What are you doing in my tent?”_ Bakugou roared.

It was a very small consolation that Bakugou was as red faced as she was – and this time it wasn’t due to the fever. In fact, she realized, he looked quite a bit better. No great, but better. Her elation temporarily overruled her mortification, and she leaned forward on her hands to get a closer look at him.

“Ah, Bakugou-kun, you look a lot better! How do you feel?”

He leaned away from her, brows pulled into a furious scowl. “Don’t change the fucking subject! Why the fuck were you in my sleeping bag?”

“You don’t remember? You lost your rucksack in the river. We only have one tent and one sleeping bag and… well…” Her flush deepened again. “Neither of us could sleep outside in this cold.”

This logic dampened his temper, though he pushed her out of his personal space. “Tch. Well, it’s fucking weird, alright? Go sleep on the other side of the tent next time. Or at least give me some warning.”

“But you were pretty out of it last night,” she said evenly, then shuffled closer again and pressed her hand against his forehead. “I think your fever’s gone!”

He blinked at her, then knocked her hand away. “Mind your fucking business!”

“Your health kinda is my business, ya know.”

“I’m fine! I took your dumb medicine, so don’t ask me –“ His sentence ended with a wracking cough that made her wince, and he glared at her over his hand. “Don’t give me that idiotic look. It’s just a cough, dumbass.”

She chewed her lip worriedly. Well, at least coughing didn’t cause him to spontaneously explode. “I’ll put breakfast on and then you can take your medicine.” At his mutinous look she added, “Then afterwards we can start towards the statue location. I don’t think it’s too far.”

This seemed to perk him up a bit, so she left him to get dressed properly (his pants were still undone, she noticed) and crawled out into the forest. Stretching her limbs, she breathed deep the scent of pine and fresh water, pleased to find the ground frost-free this morning. The pines scattered sequins of sunlight across their camp, promising a day of good weather, even if it was still uncomfortably cold.

By the time she’d boiled tea and cooked rice, Bakugou had dragged himself out of the tent and dropped heavily beside the fire, pointedly ignoring her gaze. She handed him tea mixed with half a sachet of flu medicine, and he downed it without complaint.

“I, um… I wanted to say sorry,” she started. “About yesterday, I mean.”

He glared at her silently over the fire.

“I should’ve trusted your instincts. And it was kinda lame of me to go behind your back like that, and not share the compass with you. I mean I still don’t think you should’ve burned the map –“

“Maps are for – ”

“—But you were going the right way.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, reflecting on her character in comparison to his. “That’s why I admire you: you always know which way you’re going, and you always get to your goal. Both you and Deku are similar like that.”

His carefully blank expression turned molten at the mention of Midoriya, and he spat angrily into the fire. “We ain’t alike, Compass-tits! He’s a pathetic weakling, only good for following orders! I’ll die before I become like him! He - ” His tirade was cut off by another coughing fit, which only seemed to anger him more. Ochako leaned over the fire to give him a bowl of rice and he snatched it cantankerously out of her hand.

“Anyway,” she said, ignoring his trite rant about Deku, “I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry for letting you drop into the water. That was really careless of me and it could’ve gotten you killed. I was… really uncool.”

He grunted, shoveling rice into his mouth, and she sensed he wanted to say something. Something sitting just beneath his façade of anger. She waited patiently, but when he caught her staring, his expression hardened again, and he chucked the empty bowl over his shoulder. “You ever heard of seasoning, dumbass? That rice was as bland as your personality!”

She bit down a frustrated sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. Just… ah…” She wanted to tell him to take it easy but thought better of it. “Never mind. Let’s get moving.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he raged, jumping to his feet, then doubled over coughing. “Fuck’s sake. Stupid cold. Fuckin’ pathetic.”

While dismantling the tent, she thought about his shame regarding his self-perceived weakness. He hid it with anger, of course, but that’s what it boiled down to: shame, fear, clout. It made her uncomfortable, and as she pulled on her quirk-activated rucksack, she decided to address the subject.

“Bakugou, everyone gets ill. You know… it’s okay to admit if something’s wrong, right? Like if… if you’re hurting?”

He didn’t bother to look at her while he scuffed dirt over the campfire. “What are you talking about?”

She awkwardly kicked a rock with the toe of her shoe. “It’s just… your quirk. It must have side-effects, right? Like how I get nauseous, Deku’s limbs break… And your gauntlets. Deku said it hurt his shoulders when he used them.”

“That’s ‘cause Deku’s a fucking we-“

“But you can tell me!” she yelled. “If you want to, I mean. If you ever feel sick, or whatever. You know I won’t judge you or think less of you for it. All I want is for my friends to be healthy and safe, but you –“

He stalked over to her, eyes flaring. “Where’s this coming from, huh? Who’ve you been talkin’ to?”

“N-no-one! It’s just… If you’d just admitted you weren’t feeling well at the start of the exam, maybe all this could’ve been avoided.”

His eyes searched hers like scorching spotlights. “You’re a piss-poor liar, Round-face,” he said eventually. “I don’t need doubters on my team, so stay behind while I get the statue alone.”

She blinked stupidly at his back while he stalked away. Gods, it was just like yesterday. Didn’t he ever learn?

“Stop it, Bakugou!” she yelled, charging after him. “All you do is push people away because you’re so afraid people will see who you really are!”

He snorted, picking up his pace and coughing into his hand. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“You’re a _GOOD GUY_!” she hollered. “Even though you act like a total asshole!”

“Go fuck yourself!”

She launched forward and grabbed his hand. “No! Because you know what? Being vulnerable isn’t pathetic. But the way you’re acting right now – that’s pathetic! It’s fake and cowardly and selfish and you say I’m a bad liar but _you’re_ the one that’s a bad liar, you big idiot, and I’m not gonna let you _hurt yourself anymore_!”

He rounded on her, eyes ablaze like twin flames, but before he could speak, his face contorted.

He sneezed.

Ochako was just a second too slow. The explosion ripped across her palm and she shrieked in pain. Darkness lapped at the edges of her vision as she dropped to her knees and fought off a wave of nausea, clutching her wrist with a trembling hand.

_Breathe in, breathe out. Control the pain. Not so bad. Not so bad._

“Uraraka!” Two hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “I didn’t mean… Fuck! Hang on.”

She was swept off her feet and carried through the forest towards the sound of rushing water. Her hand felt like it was on fire; searing pain shot all the way up to her shoulder. Gods she too afraid to look – were her fingers gone?

_Breathe in, breathe out. You’re fine. You’re fine._

Bakugou lowered her onto the riverbank then grabbed her wrist and plunged it under the water. She yelled again, slumping against him, and felt his hand snake around her waist to steady her. Eventually, she cracked open an eye, and beneath the surface she saw her hand was, miraculously, intact.

“I managed to reign it in at the last minute,” he told her, “but my sweat transferred onto your palm so…”

“It’s okay,” she croaked. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not the fucking point!”

Ochako winced, dizzy with pain. “Please… please don’t yell right now.”

He clamped his mouth shut, jaw ticking and eyes fixed on her hand under the water. They stayed like for ten minutes until Ochako wrestled the pain under control and pulled her hand out of the river. She was shaking uncontrollably, and her palm was scorched red, skin peeling and bubbling from the burn. The sensitive pads of her fingertips were burned too, which concerned her the most. Could she still release her quirk if they were damaged?

“There’s a first aid kit in my backpack,” she croaked.

Bakugou scooted round her and rooted through her belongings until he found the kit, then pulled from it burn cream and bandages. He knelt in front of her and took her hand gently in his, tugging the lid of the cream off with his teeth.

“This is gonna sting like a bitch,” he said around the cap.

Ochako just swallowed and nodded.

It did sting like bitch. But she was surprised by how gentle Bakugou was, despite his face being taut and red with rage, his teeth clenched and mouth set in a grim line. She felt a flicker of guilt despite her injury; this definitely wouldn’t help his blood pressure.

“It wasn’t your fault –“

“SHUT UP!” he roared, wrapping the bandage around her hand. “It was stupid to grab me like that, idiot! You know I could’ve sneezed, so this is what you get! You got nothin’ but air between your ears. Now take some damn painkillers!”

He all but shoved the pills into her mouth, and she swallowed them dry without complaint.

He went to stand, but she caught his arm with her good hand and pulled him back to her level. “Listen. I know you’re not gonna like this. And I know I might as well be talking to a brick wall. But you have to calm down, Bakugou.”

“Don’t tell me,” he growled, “to fucking _calm down_.“

“Just until you get better, you have to try not to sweat as much, which means you gotta stop being so angry.”

“I will not –“

“Please!” she yelled over him, then lowered her voice again. “For my sake?”

He stared at her for a long, unreadable, then stood up with a snort. “If you can’t handle me then go back to the teachers.”

“What’s the point?” she bleated. “You won’t pass this exam by yourself! We have to do it together. It’s part of the criteria! Partners don’t abandon each other!”

He snarled under his breath; apparently, he’d forgotten that little detail. “Fine! But I’m not doin’ it for you! I’m gonna pass this exam with top marks, and if that means babying a useless dead weight, then so be it!” He ended his tirade with a coughing fit that had him doubled over, and the irony was clearly lost on him. 

Ochako breathed a sigh of relief, then climbed unsteadily to her feet. Her whole arm throbbed and her hand was on fire, but she could bear it. She had to. Accidental injury was bound to happen when she became a hero, so she would soldier on without complaint. That’s what Deku would do.

“Here,” she said, fishing into her pocket. “Take it.”

He stared at the compass in her outstretched hand, expression belligerent, then turned sharply on his heel and stomped towards the undergrowth. “Keep it, Air-head. I don’t want something that’s been jammed between your tits anyway.”

“I-it’s been in my pocket!” she bleated, then put it away again with a sigh. _What a weirdo, honestly._

* * *

They followed the lazy curves of the river at a slow pace set by Bakugou. She couldn’t tell whether he was compensating for her injury or his sickness, but she didn’t complain. She even started to enjoy herself, drinking in the crisp mountain air and the gently stirring pines.

“Awah, this really takes me back,” she breathed cheerily. “My parents used to take me hiking in the mountain when I was kid. We didn’t have a lot of money, so camping was the cheapest thing we could do during the summer.”

Bakugou said nothing, trundling a few feet in front of her with his hands in his pockets.

“It’s a shame we didn’t know each other when we were kids,” she mused, “’cause I bet we would’ve had a lot of fun playing outside!” To his stony silence, she added, “You don’t have any siblings, either, right? I wish I’d had friends like you and Deku-kun to play with.”

Bakugou scoffed. “Don’t tell me you were one of those loser kids with no friends?”

Ochako bashfully scratched the back of her head with her good hand. “Oh, um, well… I guess I was! I mean, I had friends at school, but I had to do the housework and cooking when I was at home ‘cause my parents worked day and evening shifts. So I didn’t really have time. That’s why I’m so glad I went to U.A. and met all of you! Now I get to have fun days out all the time!”

Bakugou frowned at her over his shoulder before looking away. “This isn’t a ‘fun day out’, Helium-head. It’s an exam.”

She leaned forward and lightly punched his shoulder. “Then it must be the company that’s makin’ me so happy!”

He bristled, shoulders hunched around his ears, seeming more embarrassed than angry. “You’ve got some serious issues if you’re idea of a good time is havin’ your hand nearly blown off.”

“Aw, c’mon. You can’t tell me you don’t like being outdoors in the fresh air!” She poked him between his shoulder blades. “I know ya doooo.”

“Quit touchin’ me!” he thundered, then picked up his pace a touch to put distance between them. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”

Ochako’s response was cut short when they rounded a bend and found themselves on the bank of the lake. The river to their right tumbled off a short ledge, feeding into the body of water, which stretched almost two-hundred feet to the opposite bank. Afternoon sunlight glittered on the crystalline surface, and a group of deer startled away into the surrounding pines when they caught sight of them.

Pain temporarily forgotten, Ochako stepped up the water’s edge and shielded her eyes from the sun. “Pretty!”

Bakugou coughed into his hand, sniffed, then pointed to the center of the lake. “There. The statue.”

She squinted to where he was indicating and spied something catching the light on top of a tiny, man-made island. “Lord, they don’t expect us to swim, do they? The water must be freezing!”

“It is,” Bakugou said, glaring at her pointedly before shifting his gaze to her bandaged hand. “Can you use your quirk?”

“Uh… I’m not sure. Unbandage me.”

“Unwrap your own damn bandages!”

“Bakugou!”

“Alright, alright. Damn, you’re such a baby.”

Despite his show of anger, he gently unwrapped her bandages and scowled at the state of her palm and her blistered fingerpads.

“Recovery Girl can fix it,” she said, catching his sullen look.

“I know that!”

“Really, it’s fine. I know it was an accident so –“

“Shut up already! Try to release your backpack.”

She pursed her lips grumpily, wanting to further confront his obvious guilt about her injury, then shuffled out the straps of her backpack. It immediately floated upward and Bakugou caught it with one hand while coughing into the other.

She pressed her fingertips together, gritting her teeth against the pain, then tried to release her quirk. Nothing; the bag continued to float like a weird balloon in Bakugou’s hand. Frowning, she pressed a little harder, felt a blister burst, and suddenly the bag dropped heavily to the ground.

“There!” she exclaimed breathlessly, feeling a trickle of sweat work down her brow. “It’s a little trickier than normal, but it works!”

Bakugou nodded, wiped his nose with his sleeve, then crouched down in front of her. “Jump on, we’re gonna shoot across.”

Ochako took an uncertain step back. “Eh?”

“You can make us weightless and I’ll use my quirk to propel us across.”

“Like… a rocket?” She blinked. That… could work. “But you’ve been sweating more than normal because of your fever – you sure you won’t shoot us into space or something?”

“Don’t be dumb. It’s either this or we swim across!”

“I could just jump – “

“And what if you can’t release your quirk, huh? Just climb on, Helium-head, I’m fucking tired of your second-guessing.”

“I’m not second guessing you! I just want make sure we’re taking the safest route!”

“This is the safest route!” Bakugou snapped. “I swear to God if you argue with me one more time I’ll throw you in the damn lake! Maybe _then_ we can call it even.”

“Alright, alright, geez…” Ochako awkwardly climbed onto Bakugou’s back, then clamped her thighs around his waist and locked her arms around his neck. She prayed he couldn’t feel the volcanic inferno radiating from her cheeks.

“Hit it!” Bakugou yelled.

She activated her quirk, levitating them about a foot above the ground, then Bakugou unleashed twin explosions from his palms.

Ochako whooped in both terror and delight as they shot like a firework across the lake. Wind whistled in her ears and the water parted in their wake, sending two walls of water cascading in opposite directions. As the small island hurtled closer, Bakugou stretched his arms forward and released two smaller blasts, slowing their propulsion, and Ochako smacked her fingertips together so hard her vision went momentarily dark from the pain.

They dropped to solid ground and Ochako slid off his back, wiping nervous sweat off her brow. Her ears were ringing and her whole body was trembling with adrenaline.

“It…”

Bakugou’s voice drew her attention and she looked up just as he whirled on her, his face split in a savage grin. “IT FUCKIN’ _WORKED_!”

She leaned back a little, tittering nervously. “Heh, yeah, I guess it did!”

“WE FUCKIN’ FLEW, PINK CHEEKS! WE’RE A FUCKIN’ NUCLEAR WARHEAD! WE –“ He was cut short by a coughing fit and he doubled over, miniature explosions dying above his palms before he clamped them to his knees.

She hopped to her feet and touched the back of his neck. It felt hot and clammy. “A-ah, Bakugou-kun! Take it easy, okay? You’re still not well enough to be pulling stunts like that. You’ll tire yourself out.”

To her surprise, he let her stay like that for a long minute, until she nervously withdrew her hand and leaned forward. “You okay?”

He stood up and coughed into his hand, avoiding her eye. “Worry about yourself, idiot. Let’s grab the statue, already.”

It wasn’t hard to find; it was set on a man-made pedestal in the center of the little island, which was in fact a concrete block. Ochako recognized the statue as a silver-plated, limited-edition All Might figurine (her knowledge of All Might merchandise was unfortunately extensive thanks to Midoriya and his collection).

Bakugou yanked it from its pedestal and shoved it into his belt. “This test is fucking stupid. They could’ve at least had someone here waitin’ to fight us.”

 _That would’ve defeated the point of this exam entirely,_ Ochako mused, thinking of Bakugou’s blood pressure. Out loud she said, “Maybe fusing our quirks to cross the lake _was_ the test?”

“That’s still lam. Even you could’ve worked that out, Air-head.”

“Actually, I really hadn’t thought about it.” She side-eyed him as he stalked to the edge of the platform. “The only people you spar with are Kirishima and Deku-kun. I figured I was too weak to keep up with you, or at least you thought I was too weak.”

He stared at her over his shoulder for a long moment, water reflections playing across his skin, then he snorted and crouched down. “Get on, Air-head.”

She wanted to press him further, but the simple fact he hadn’t immediately yelled at her was a good sign. Maybe they were getting somewhere.


	6. Star Gazers

Once the adrenalin of successfully fusing their quirks had worn off, Ochako saw a rapid decline in Bakugou’s energy. His usual anger was banked beneath a pall of exhaustion that read clearly through the dark circles under his eyes and the sweat pouring down his face, so she tentatively suggested they set up camp by the lake.

“It’s not like we can navigate out of the forest before dark,” she reasoned, “and we could both do with a long rest before the hike back tomorrow.”

Ochako’s suspicion about his exhaustion was impounded by his careless, “Whatever”, so she threw down her backpack at a nice clearing by the lake and began setting up camp. It took ten times longer than it should have considering her (now rebandaged) injury and Bakugou’s fading strength, but they eventually got it done.

It made a nice change being by the lake, actually. While the forest was beautiful, it was changeless and suffocating in some respects; here she had an incredible view of the mountains and the waterfall they’d fallen over.

Ochako crouched by the lake and stuck her burned hand under the surface to relieve the pain, then called over her shoulder to Bakugou. “Hey, ya wanna do some fishing? Fish really help boost your immune system and energy levels.”

“I don’t need to boost my energy levels!” he yelled, then had the decency to look at least half-bashful as he descended into a coughing fit. Scowling, he trundled closer so he didn’t have to yell. “With what? Blast fishing is illegal, ya know.”

“I didn’t mean like that! There’s twine and hooks in the pack. I guess the teachers wanted all our bases covered in case we got lost.”

Bakugou sucked the inside of his cheek, mulling this over, then shrugged. “Do what you want. I ain’t helpin’ you.”

“Worried I might catch more than you?”

Within minutes he’d rigged makeshift fishing rods using branches and gathered bugs from under rocks to use as bait, then plonked himself a few feet from where Ochako sat with her hand still held under water.

Trying to hide her grin, she inspected her injured hand. Although their stunt earlier had popped the blisters on her fingerpads, her fingers were now comfortably numb from the cold water. She left Bakugou to rebandage her hand back at the tent, then grabbed the blanket as an afterthought and draped it over Bakugou’s shoulders before sitting down again.

“You gotta stay warm,” she said, giving him a look that she hoped would discourage an argument. “Any luck?”

He scowled, but she noted him subtly tug the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Obviously not.”

“Not even a small bite?”

“There won’t be any at all if you keep yappin’.”

She grinned, then cast her line. It plopped into the water a short distance from his, sending ripples across the lake and disturbing the bugs hovering low to the surface. To their left, a fish flopped out of the water, like a challenge.

The sun dipped below the mountain line, casting the world into fiery shadow, as the birdsong reached a furious crescendo. On the other side of the lake, the deer returned and kept a watchful eye on the two strange beings while they drank.

Ochako shivered as the temperature began to fall, and suddenly half the blanket was thrown over her shoulder. She glanced at Bakugou in surprise, but he continued to stare expressionlessly at the water.

Turning a bit pink, she shuffled closer. “Shame we didn’t find your rucksack.”

“Wasn’t anything important in there.”

“Except your phone.”

“It was a shit model anyway. I’ll buy another one.”

She bit her lip, wondering how she’d afford to buy a new phone for herself. Maybe she could claim it as a U.A. expense. Property damage was kind of a given when working with Bakugou.

They sat in companionable silence for a time, broken only by his coughing, birdsong and the splashing of fish, and as the shadows grew darker she found herself drifting sideways, inadvertently leaning against his shoulder as she nodded off.

“Oi, Round-face. Go to the tent if you’re tired. Seems like the fish are too smart to bite anyways.”

“Smart fish,” she murmured, wriggling to get comfortable against his not-so-comfortable shoulder.

He snorted, then coughed into his free hand. “Weirdo.”

“Hnn.”

“Hey.”

“Hn?”

“You’re not weak.”

She blinked drowsily, half-stirring from slumber. “Huh?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, is your problem. Have a bit of confidence.” He paused. “And if you wanna spar, you only gotta ask. I’ll go another round with you anytime.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, then a movement caught her eye and she elbowed him in the ribs. “Bakugou-kun!!! You got a bite!!”

He leapt to his feet, knocking her sideways, and wedged his feet into the stodgy turf of the riverbank. “MEET YOUR DEATH, MOTHERFUCKER!!”

He yanked the rod back and in the dying light Ochako saw the glistening scales of a foot-long river-trout caught on the hook.

“GRAB IT, AIR-HEAD!”

“I got it!” Ochako cried, and as she hopped toward the bank with her arms extended, ready to catch the fish, she lost her footing and tumbled headfirst into the lake.

* * *

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Bakugou told her for perhaps the tenth time in the space of an hour.

Stripped of her wet clothes and shivering by the fire, Ochako glared at him through the narrow slit in her blanket-cocoon, wishing she could take away his ability to speak. She wore a clean sports bra and pair of panties (thank the gods she’d brought spares) and his t shirt – the only item he could spare from under his layered thermals – which had on it a flaming skull and cross bones and smelt strongly of burnt caramel. Meaning it was soaked with sweat, but hey, as gross as that was at least it didn’t smell _bad_.

Bakugou picked up the fish they’d roasted on a stick and began separating the flesh into portions. “Serves you right, though. Guess we’re even now.”

“Hardly,” she muttered. “You owe me a new phone.”

“What’d you say!?”

“I said ‘You should remove the bones’.”

“Think I don’t know that, asshole? Tch. Fishing was your idea, anyways. Not my problem you’re a shitty fisherman.” He dumped seasoning over the bowl of rice and fish, then held it out to her. “Get warm, dumbass.”

Her temper strung thin, she wriggled until her arms were free of the blanket then snatched the bowl out of his hands. “My name’s _Uraraka!”_

“I’ll call you what I want!” he raged, then coughed a few times. “Round-face.”

“S-sweaty-palms!”

"Compass-tits."

"S-Spikey-head!"

“Oof, keep goin’ and you might make me cry, Hamster-cheeks!”

She opened her mouth to say something a tad more scathing but thought better of it. She was here to help him, not antagonize him. But the way he’d burst out laughing when she’d fallen into the lake had really sparked her temper.

…Even if it had been nice seeing him genuinely laugh about something for a change, rather than his usual mid-battle cackling. He’d almost seemed _normal_.

“Well. Thanks for the meal, I guess,” she said, then shoved a wad of fish into her mouth with the chopsticks.

She managed a single bite before she nearly spat it out, her face going flaming red. “A-ah!! It’s spicy!”

Bakugou paused over his own dinner, seasoning balanced in one hand, and shot her a cantankerous look. “Well, yeah, obviously. Not everyone likes their food bland and tasteless like you.”

“I can’t eat this! My stomach hurts at the best of times, you know.”

“Tch, fine.” He stood up again to exchange their bowls. “Damn baby. It’s not that hot.”

“It’s super hot!” she protested, then took a mouthful of her unseasoned food. “But uh… this is really good. Thanks for catching us dinner, Bakugou-kun.”

He snorted while shoveling down his dinner. “It’s not hard to sit around waitin’ for a fish to bite, dumbass. It’s boring.”

She chewed thoughtfully on her food. He said that, but the fishing had mellowed him out quite a bit. “You should meditate with me sometime.”

“Hah?”

“It helps build your mental stamina and focus your thoughts.”

“I fucking know what meditation is.”

“Well… maybe you should try it.”

“What are you tryin’ to say?”

“Maybe we could climb to the top of a mountain and mediate there.”

“Stop makin’ weird plans with me! Two days with you is two days too long. I’ll die happy if I don’t have to see your stupid, round face ever again.”

She lowered her chopsticks, hurt bleeding into her expression, then gathered the blanket around her and trudged over to the tent. “I won’t bother you anymore, then.”

He caught the edge of the blanket before she could breeze past him, staring down at his bowl of food. Softly, he said, “Don’t be dumb. Sit down.”

“Why?” she replied. “I thought you didn’t like my company?”

“Just… just sit down. It’s warmer by the fire. And if you get hypothermia, I’ll fail the exam for not takin’ care of my partner, right?” He hesitated, expression hidden under his mane of hair as he pushed rice around with his chopsticks. “…Uraraka.”

Her heart gave one, mighty pound against her ribcage and she frowned, thrown by the strange stirring at the put of her stomach. She’d felt it before but couldn’t quite pinpoint where.

“Fine,” she said. “As you asked nicely, for a change.”

Her clothes were steaming over a makeshift rack of branches (the second she’d had to make in two days), but they were far from dry. Great. The roles were going to be reversed tonight and it was going to be ten times more embarrassing considering he was conscious this time. Hopefully he’d fall asleep quickly though, seeing how ill he was.

“Did you take your medicine?” she asked, eyeing him over the fire.

“Yes.”

“And you’re feeling better?”

“I’m sittin’ up, ain’t I?”

“Yeah… I’m glad we took it easy today. Another fast-paced day and I reckon we wouldn’t have made it.” He was still hollow-eyed and coughing, but he hadn’t sneezed for a while, so that was a positive.

She massaged her throbbing hand, then downed a few painkillers with water. Bakugou watched her, but said nothing, and looked away when she threw him a questioning look.

“I’m gonna look at the stars,” she told him, getting up. “Make sure the fire doesn’t go out, okay?”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Air-head!”

 _Aaaand we’re back to name calling_ , she thought with a grimace. Not surprising, but she didn’t mind too much either.

The lake captured the night sky in its reflection, cradling stars and the pregnant moon on its inky surface. Only the hush of flowing water interrupted the silence, and the pines were motionless in the breezeless dark. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her as she lay on her back, peering up at the endless sky through the plumes of her breath. Unburdened by light pollution, the stars dazzled like diamonds on velvet, whisked together against the subtle shades of the Milky Way.

She heard Bakugou’s soft footfalls nearby, then he lay down a short distance from her and peered at the sky with his hands tucked behind his head. If he was cold, he didn’t complain.

“You know the constellations?” she asked.

“No.”

“That’s what I do when I want to gather my thoughts. I draw them in my head. It’s… like a calming exercise. Imagining and connecting each dot.” She pointed to a distinctive cluster. “See those five together? That’s the big dipper, which makes up the Great Bear. Look north-west of that and you’ve got Polaris, which leads down to the small dipper. See it?”

Bakugou hesitated. “I guess…”

She shifted her hand. “And see over there – those five really bright stars? They make a sort of wiggly ‘W’. That’s Cassiopeia. Oh, and um, to the east there, those five stars connect to make a house shape. That’s Cepheus. Which isn’t my favorite constellation but it’s pretty easy to picture in my mind when I’m stressed, so I shouldn’t –“ She turned to look at him and trailed off.

He wasn’t looking at the stars at all; he was looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

He stared at her a moment longer, expression lost in shadow, then turned his eyes to the sky again with a snort. “You’ve been hangin’ round with Deku too much, ya damn nerd.”

Ochako sighed, then sat up. “If you say so. I’m going to bed; it’s freezing out here.”

“Whatever.”

He made no move to follow her, so she returned to the tent alone and buried under the unzipped sleeping bag. Despite their slow pace today, her calves still ached something fierce and the painkillers was barely skimming the sides of her burn injury. She probably should have been angrier at Bakugou but found she didn’t quite have it in her.

Through a heavy veil of sleep she heard the tent being unzipped and felt rather than saw the warmth of another body. She was very glad he’d given her his t shirt, though it didn’t do much to dampen the embarrassment of sleeping beside a boy in a small tent, under one sleeping bag, wearing very little.

“You awake?” Bakugou hissed.

“Yeah…”

A pause. “Listen, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but if you wanna sleep back to back then that’s fine with me.”

Her brain sluggishly tried to process what he was saying. “Uh…”

“To warm you up!” he snapped. “It’s fuckin’ cold outside and you’re still not dry and we can’t get properly warm with the sides of the bag open like this. So unless you wanna zip it up and get real cozy then I’m sayin’ we can sleep with our backs together ‘cause it’s better than nothing and I don’t wanna wake up like…” He trailed off, perhaps as jarred by the memory of their morning predicament as she was. “Just do it or whatever, I don’t give a shit either way.”

And with that, he turned huffily on his side and fell quiet.

She sucked the inside of her cheeks for a moment, dying of embarrassment. Mainly because she knew he was right, and it was the smart thing to do. But it didn’t make it any less awkward.

 _Professional_ , she told herself. _Be professional._ _This is what any pro would do. It’s for the good of our health. No deeper than that._ _And_ _at least he’s wearing clothes this time._

So she turned on her side and shifted until she felt the press of his back against hers through the thin t shirt. He stiffened at the contact, grumbling about her being cold, but after what felt like a small eternity of pure discomfort, his exhaustion took over and he fell asleep snoring.

 _What a drama queen_ , she thought, then tried her best to fall to asleep.


	7. Katsuki

She should move. Her brain was screaming at her – absolutely screaming at her – about indignity and inappropriateness and unprofessionalism and how it should feel ten billion times weirder than it actually did.

But she doesn’t want to move. The world outside the sleeping bag was freezing cold this early in the morning, even if the tent had trapped their heat, and she’s comfortable. Too comfortable.

_Why isn’t weird, it should be weird, feel weird about this, darn it!_

Bakugou’s body was pressed against her back, his arm draped around her waist, his knee wedged between her legs. His hot breath tousled her hair and rolled down her neck. If she so much as flinched, their fingers would touch, and for some reason that distracted her more than the prominent curve of his muscles, the way she fit so snugly against him. It was perhaps only the fear of an errant sneeze that stopped her from entwining her fingers with his – just to see what it felt like. And where was the harm in that?

How they’d ended up like this was a mystery. She’d woken up an indeterminate time ago while the morning light was still dull, wrapped in his half-embrace. Her t-shirt (his t-shirt, really) had rucked up to her stomach and she was hyper-aware of how her rear molded into his lap. But she was way too sleepy and warm to be embarrassed – and he was asleep anyway. She’d move by the time he woke up.

At least, that’s what she’d told herself half an hour ago.

Bakugou reflexively stretched his limbs with a soft groan and she kept very still, hoping maybe he wouldn’t move so they could stay together in this warm limbo for just a little longer.

 _But why? Why would you want to stay like this with_ him _?_

And she was just finding an answer to that perplexing question when, very suddenly, Bakugou woke up.

His whole body went rigid against her and there was a second of tense silence before her nice little fantasy was shattered; he leapt off her, hollering expletives while miniature explosions crackled to his palms.

Quietly amused, Ochako rolled onto to her back and rubbed her eyes, pretending that she’d just woken up.

“Mornin’.”

His expression was both aghast and angry – clearly, he was unsure whether he should play dumb or yell at her – then his eyes trailed down her body and he sharply turned away, ears turning pink.

“But some clothes on, you fuckin’ harlot!”

Ochako glanced down and found her paw-print panties fully exposed under the hem of the rucked-up t-shirt. She swiftly covered herself, all her nonchalance transforming into Plus Ultra mortification.

“I don’t have pants to put on!” she wailed.

“Well then you shouldn’t have fallen in the lake!”

“It was an accident!”

“You’re worse than Grape-head, you pervert!”

“That’s rich considering _you_ were the one cuddling _me_!”

Bakugou speared her with a vehement look over his shoulder. “Haaah? You’re tellin’ me you were _awake_ the whole time?”

Ochako was pretty sure the heat radiating from her cheeks was turning super-nova. “Wh-what? No. _Nooo_! Don’t be dumb! I woke up when you did!”

He stared at her for a long moment, then turned away and snorted. “You’re a shitty liar, Pink Cheeks. And a pervert.”

“ _You’re_ a pervert!”

 _Nice one,_ she thought lamely as she tugged her clothes off the rack they’d dragged into the tent last night. They were slightly damp but wearable, so she tugged them on. Immediately her teeth began to chatter. Not a great start to the day.

“Happy now?” She spun around and found him staring at the ground, face scrunched up like he’d eaten something bad. “Bakugou? What –“

He lifted his left hand, sneezed, and an explosion blew apart the side of their tent. Ochako covered her head with a wince as poles and tattered fabric collapsed on top of them, and in the following silence she heard Bakugo sigh.

“Let’s just get the fuck out of this forest.”

She made the tent float off them, then tossed it aside. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all week.”

* * *

With nearly all their gear destroyed, they had to breakfast on protein bars, which wasn’t ideal. Bakugou was getting better, but not out of the woods yet (excusing the pun) and ideally needed something with more substance, especially considering they had to climb a giant cliff. She gave him her half the rations and hoped it would be enough to sustain him until they got back.

Now they stood at the bottom of said cliff, peering up at its jagged edges and the roaring waterfall to their left. She couldn’t believe they’d plunged over the side of it yesterday, and seeing it now made her very thankful for her quirk.

“Well,” she said, glancing sideways at Bakugou. “You said you liked mountain climbing.”

He wiped his palms on his pants and sniffed loudly. “Yeah, on _my_ terms. Anyway, we ain’t gonna climb it. We’re gonna use Warhead to shoot to the top.”

“Warhead?”

He caught himself, and the look he gave her might have been sheepish if it had been on anyone but Bakugou. As it was, he just looked annoyed. “Our quirk combination, dumbass! I swear I’ve had hamsters with bigger brains than you, if not smaller cheeks.”

“Is that so? Well maybe I’ll float to the top and leave you down here to climb up by yourself.”

“Be my guest.”

They held each other’s glares for a minute before she relented. Damn him calling her bluff. “Fine. But only because Aizawa-sensei would deduct points for poor teamwork if I left you here. Where you belong,” she added, “at the _bottom_.”

“Fuck you, Pink Cheeks.”

He crouched down and she hopped onto his back, then activated her quirk. The moment his feet left the ground he extended his palms back and blasted them upward.

It was ten times more exhilarating than going horizontally over a lake – even for Ochako who was used to flying by now – and she damn near throttled him as they shot like a firework into the sky. He was cackling like a madman as they reached a zenith high above the sprawling forest, and she laughed helplessly along with him.

“Set us down, Cheeks!” he roared.

She released her quirk and he exploded simultaneously, sending them plunging back to earth at breakneck speed. She shrieked as they tore through the canopy, the pines shredding their clothes, before they hit the ground hard enough to fling her off his back and knock the wind out of her lungs.

She sat up, gasping. “Wh-why did you do that!?”

Far from being injured or even perturbed, Bakugou leapt to his feet, explosions sparking off his palms. He wore a savage grin that may have – on more than one occasion – given her literal nightmares.

“ _WARHEAD, MOTHERFUCKER!!!”_

“We could’ve died!”

“Don’t be a coward! I would’ve stopped our descent before we hit the ground.”

“Then why didn’t you!?”

“The trees got in the way, dumbass! We’re fine anyway, right? Just needs some fine-tuning, is all…”

She blinked. _Fine-tuning?_ She didn’t know whether to feel flattered or terrified. “You know you can use your explosions to project yourself upwards anyway?”

“I know that, idiot! I can’t get that high though.” He stared at her with a calculating look before his brow crumpled into its usual scowl. She noticed he was sweating heavily again. “It’s weird the teachers didn’t flag it up. Wasn’t exactly covert.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” she snipped while climbing to her feet and brushing leaves off her behind. “If you hadn’t released such a strong explosion, we could’ve landed at the top of the cliff instead of overshooting it by a hundred feet!”

“ _What did you fuckin’ say?”_

“I said you –“

“It was _your_ fault for not releasing your quirk early enough!”

“But we could’ve descended at a normal speed if you hadn’t done that second explosion!” She threw up her hands, turned sharply on her heel, and started to stomp away. “This is your problem, you know. You just do your own thing and… Ugh, what’s the point in talking to you, anyway? You never listen.”

She heard his heavy footfalls behind her, then his hand clamped around her wrist.

“Hey, don’t walk away from me, Air-head!”

She couldn’t help herself; she winced away from him with a whimper. His grip was surprisingly gentle but… one sneeze and her hand would be kaput.

He caught her expression and glanced down at his hand. An emotion passed across his face so fleetingly she might have imagined it, but it looked a lot like hurt. Then he tsked, clenched his fists at his sides, and leered down at her.

“So it’s gonna be like that, huh? Fine. I don’t have time for doubters.”

“I… I don’t doubt you, Bakugou. It’s just –“

“You think I can’t control my quirk? That I’m so weak I would fucking hurt you?”

“I know you wouldn’t mean to but –“

“I don’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses! This whole exam is a waste of fucking time.” He was growing more red-faced by the second, growing almost radioactive with rage. “In fact, y _ou’re_ a waste of my time. You and your feeble-minded, loser friends ramming your sad fucking positivity down everyone’s throats.”

“You don’t –“

“Shut up! I don’t want anything else to do with you! Hear me? I hope you fucking fail at U.A. like you do with everything else you’ve ever tried. I hope you spend the rest of your miserable days as an irrelevant nobody, just like you are now.”

“B-Bakugou, I –“

He leaned closer, all flashing eyes and bared teeth. “Don’t you get it, Uraraka? _You_ … are nothing but an air-headed, ugly, weak, round-faced, dumb bitch and you will _never_ be a hero.”

Tears blurred her vision. Hurt soldered her to the spot. Crying was stupid, but she couldn’t help it, and they started pouring down her cheeks before she could stop them.

But the tears were not at her expense. His words were empty – just a manifestation of his own insecurities. But they hurt her because until now, she really thought she could help him. Realized she _wanted_ to help him.

But she’d failed.

He deflated a notch at the sight of her sudden tears, his anger diluted into something more subdued – somewhere between petulance and dismissal, maybe – then he turned sharply on his heel and stalked away.

She blinked away her tears. No. He wasn’t going to get away with this. He wasn’t going to shove everyone away so recklessly. She wouldn’t let him. The teachers had trusted her, and she wouldn’t let them down. Not them, nor him.

With no real plan in mind, she barreled into him from behind, clamped her arms around his chest, then activated her quirk.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he bellowed, struggling as they floated off the floor. “Get the hell off me!”

“NO!” she shrieked. “If I let you go now then nothing will change! You’ll just continue down this path of self-destruction, pushing everyone away and refusing to accept our help! So I won’t let you go – not until you promise to be calmer!”

“I’m warning you, Cheeks,” he growled. “Let me go or I will _force_ you to let go!”

“I DON’T CARE! If anything happened to you and I’d done nothing but stand by and watch – I could never forgive myself! Do you understand!? So calm down and _let me talk to you_!”

Bakugou lifted his hands, sparks lancing off his fingers. “Who the fuck do you think you are? GET OFF ME!”

“NO!”

Twin explosions propelled them backwards, shunting them across the forest until they slammed into a pine trunk. She gritted her teeth against the pain but didn’t let go, and Bakugou howled in anger.

“LET GO!”

“NO!”

Another flare aimed skyward blasted them back to earth where a thick root caught Ochako’s shoulder, whipping pain down her spine, and she released him with a shriek. Free of her grip, he continued to float upwards; not even a blast designed to ground him could break her quirk, so he grabbed a low hanging branch to stop his ascent instead.

Ochako knelt on the ground, clutching her throbbing shoulder. It was definitely dislocated, and of course it would be the arm of her injured hand too.

“Let me down RIGHT NOW OR I’LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!”

Ochako stood on shaking legs and met his gaze. “Not until you promise to be calmer.”

Another blast shot him forward and he barreled into her, pinning her to the ground with one hand pressed against her shoulder blade. She kicked him easily off her, sending him spiraling higher. An explosion righted his trajectory, and another sent him back to earth, his face pulled into a grimace of rage. She spun neatly out the way then used her momentum to execute a round house kick aimed for his back. Somehow, despite the zero-gravity, he was still faster than her, and used a spluttering blast to turn, grab her ankle, then swing her over his head onto the ground.

“Let me down, you stubborn bitch!”

“No!”

A sharp punch to his ribs sent him hurtling into the underside of a thick branch. He righted himself, planted both feet, then propelled himself down again. She barely managed to dodge this time as he scrambled for purchase among the flora, then blasted her with an explosion that knocked them both backwards in opposite directions.

To think he was still so agile despite being weightless! If she wasn’t in so much pain she might have been impressed.

As it was, he was just really annoying.

“I’m trying to help you!” she yelled.

“I don’t need your fucking help!”

He planted his feet on a trunk again, then blasted across the space to hit her. Just as he crossed the midpoint of their makeshift arena, she released the fallen tree trunk she was levitating with the intention to pin him to the ground, but somehow he saw it coming. He glanced up then exploded the trunk to splinters, which shot to him to the ground in the process.

“That old trick won’t work –“ he snarled, then Ochako jumped on him and released her quirk simultaneously. He scrambled to regain his balance with his weight returned, then shoved her off him and pinned her to the ground, one hand against her good shoulder and the other pulled back to hit her.

And for a second she genuinely thought he was going to punch her in the face, but his rageful expression subsided and he regained some semblance of control. His fist dropped to his side.

She went limp under him, expression serious. Sweat was dripping of his face by the bucket-load, his chest heaving, whereas she was mostly unwinded save for her injuries.

“You’re getting weaker,” she said softly, “because of the excess nitroglycerin in your blood.”

He blinked through the curtain of sweat, then clamped his mouth shut and rolled off her. “I don’t want your help.”

“I know.” She sat up, wincing in pain. “I’m not trying to upstage you or be the best or exploit your weaknesses or whatever. I just want to help. Will you at least try?” Softly, she added, “You know what’ll happen if you don’t have a clean bill of health at U.A.”

Here he clenched his fist in the dirt, eyes hidden beneath his hair. “That wasn’t a fair match.”

“Huh?”

“Just now. I’m sick, so it wasn’t fair.”

She blinked. “But you still… beat me?”

“It wasn’t fair!” he roared, hitting his fist against the ground. “So we’re gonna go again later. When I’m not fucking sick and your hand isn’t messed up. Got it?”

“S-sure. So long as we can work on your anger issues.”

“I don’t have anger issues!” he yelled, then coughed, and climbed to his feet. After glaring at no particular point for a moment, he extended his hand to her. “Well?”

She took it without hesitation, climbed to her feet, then discreetly wiped nitroglycerin onto her pants. “Lead the way.”

* * *

Aizawa was waiting for them by an empty coach at the starting point, watching as they limped out of the forest. Bakugou had finally submitted to his exhaustion and was leaning heavily on Ochako, while her face was pale and tight from the pain of her dislocated shoulder and burned hand.

They stopped in front of Aizawa, and Bakugou threw the statue at his feet. “There. We fucking did it.”

The teacher stared at them both for a long moment, then sighed. “You fail.”

Bakugou wrestled out of Ochako’s grip, going red with rage. “The fuck did you just say!? We got the statue, didn’t we?”

“You literally rocketed into the sky and exploded back to the ground,” Aizawa deadpanned. “Hardly covert.”

Bakugou ignored Ochako’s pointed look. “But we worked together to get it! You can’t fucking tell me –“

Ochako rested a hand on his arm, and after a few seconds the tension leeched out of him. He glanced at her, then tsked and shrugged off her hand with a grumpy look. “Fine. Whatever.”

Aizawa raised his eyebrows at this calmer-than-usual response, then turned an appraising look on Ochako. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “Congratulations, you both pass.”

“JUST LIKE THAT!?” Bakugou and Ochako belted simultaneously.

“I won’t ask why you’re both so injured,” Aizawa went one, though he did spare Bakugou a frosty look. “But I’ll allow you to see Recovery Girl when we get back.”

They followed Aizawa onto the coach and Ochako slumped into a window seat with a gratuitous sigh. She wouldn’t say the experience had put her off camping, per se, but she definitely wouldn’t be considering it again anytime soon. At least not in the darn winter.

To her surprise, Bakugou took the seat in front of her rather than picking the opposite side of the coach, then slumped heavily against the window. She could see the muted crimson of his eyes in the window’s reflection, though his expression was unreadable. As the engine kicked on and the coach pulled out of the layby, she leaned forward and patted Bakugou amiably on the back.

“Good job, partner! We make a pretty good team, right?”

“If you call beating the shit out of each other teamwork, then sure.”

“Well, we made it: that’s all that matters.” Teasingly, she added, “Y’know, you’re not terrible company when you’re unconscious and sick.”

“Can it, Compass-tits.”

Ochako winced. “Please don’t call me that at school, Bakugou-kun. I don’t wanna have to explain how –“

“Katsuki.”

She blinked, wondering if she’d misheard him over the roar of the engine. “Huh?”

But he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, effectively shutting her out without providing confirmation.

She leaned back in her seat and tried to excuse the weird, fluttery feeling in her stomach to fatigue.

 _Katsuki_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in Part One! Part Two will be from Bakugo's perspective when they return to U.A. I'm not sure whether to make it an entirely separate piece as Part Two of the collection, or to keeping posting chapters on this one. Let me know what you think. Either way, keep an eye out! Things are definitely about to get steamier. Thank you for all your lovely comments so far. I read and appreciate them all.


	8. Uraraka's Delivery Service

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of this fic will be told from Bakugou's perspective. Can't wait to soften this idiot up. As usual, any comments are greatly appreciated :D

**PART TWO**  
_(Bakugou's Perspective)_

'There is love in your body but you can't get it out  
It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth  
Sticks to your tongue and shows on your face  
That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste'

* * *

**Uraraka’s Delivery Service**

Katsuki Bakugou sat shirtless on a bed in U.A.’s infirmary, trying hard not to crush the thermometer wedged between his teeth as he listened to Uraraka whimper behind a white curtain in the bed next to him. There was a sickening crunch as her dislocated shoulder was set back into place, but to her credit she didn’t cry out.

Katsuki ruthlessly crushed the niggle of guilt in his gut, then spat out the thermometer as Recovery Girl emerged from behind the white curtains.

“I don’t have temperature!” he hollered. “I fucking told you: I’m fine.”

Recovery Girl clambered up a miniature step ladder until she was eye-level with him, then cuffed the back of his head. “You’ll mind your language when you’re in my surgery, young man.”

An objection surged to the tip of his tongue but was cut off when she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead.

“I’m the only one who decides who’s fine and who isn’t. I’m signing you out of class for the next three days until you’re fully recovered.”

Hot anger flushed through him at the thought of missing out while others – _Deku_ – progressed without him. _Again_. “I won’t fall behind because of a dumb cold! I’m fine –“

“It’s flu, actually,” Recovery Girl told him while she strapped a blood pressure monitor to his arm. “You’ll be better in a few days, but I don’t want you spreading it to the other students. Plus, the loss of control of your quirk when you sneeze is dangerous.”

“I’m not sneezin’ anymore!”

The cuff around his bicep tightened then deflated with a puff of air. Recovery Girl squinted at the number on the dial and pursed her lips. “But you need rest, otherwise it could turn into a chest infection or pleurisy.”

“I don’t feel sick anymore and I’m not gonna waste three days sittin’ around in bed when I could be –“

“Listen to Recovery Girl.” Ochako appeared through a slit in the curtain and edged towards his bed. Her face was flushed from the pain of having her shoulder set, but her burned hand had been completely healed by Recovery Girl’s quirk. She gave him _that_ look –a blend of concern and impatience – and he _hated_ it.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Round-face! I won’t –“

“You’ll catch up no problem,” she told him, like he didn’t know that already. “I’ll bring you the class notes and we can spar next week to make up for it, so long as you’re totally better.”

“Who says I wanna spar with you?” he snapped, even though he did want to polish Warhead. That move was a cut above the rest, for sure; no one else could utilize her quirk the way he could. But she did have a point: he couldn’t get stronger while sick, and even though he’d never admit it out loud, that hike-from-hell through the forest really took it out of him.

So he bared his teeth at her, rolled off the bed and pulled on his shirt. “Fine! But I’m not doing it ‘cause you asked! And you better not take shit notes.”

She beamed at him for some unfathomable reason – she was definitely one of the weirdest fucking people he’d ever met – then much to his disgust, she followed him out of the infirmary.

“Get away from me!” he barked, then coughed, which aggravated him more. “I don’t need a fucking escort to my dorm.”

“I’m going back to _my_ dorm, actually. It’s just, you know, on the way to yours.” She hesitated and he could practically _feel_ her pouting. “I can walk behind you if it makes you feel better?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and tsked. He was too tired to argue with her and he was definitely getting a headache. “I don’t care what you do, dumbass. Just tell those other losers not to bother me. I’m gonna sleep solidly for the next three days so we can start workin’ on Warhead next week, and I can’t do that if Shitty-hair and Pikachu are hasslin’ me every two seconds.”

Her cheeks turned a shade pinker, then she beamed at him like he’d said something nice, though for the life of him he couldn’t imagine what.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to see me again?” she probed.

He stiffened, but before he could think of an excuse, she patted his shoulder in a way that was way too familiar for his liking. What the hell was her deal with touching him all the damn time?

“Get some rest and I’ll take the best notes in class for you! Feel better soon, Katsuki-kun.”

An unfamiliar, fluttery feeling shot all the way from his chest to the tips of his toes and rooted him to the spot like an electric current. Right. He’d given her permission to use his name. Not like it was big deal, but it was still weird hearing it from her.

He watched her totter away to the girl’s dorm, then wiped sweat from his forehead and wondered if he was sicker than he first thought.

* * *

Time blurred into a fog while he spent the next two days asleep. Begrudgingly, he admitted that maybe Recovery Girl was right about the flu and maybe he shouldn’t have pushed himself so hard during the exam. His bedroom became a gross den of sickness, but he couldn’t muster the energy to shower, much less clean up. He yelled at Kirishima the few times he heard him worriedly call through the door; he didn’t want anyone in his personal space right now because A) he was genuinely disgusting, and B) he didn’t want to make them sick.

He wondered if Round-face would get sick, considering her total lack of regard for his personal space during the exam. Served her right if she did.

To make up for feeling like a total waster, he slept with his gauntlets strapped to his arms so at least he could make use of the unholy amount of sweat he was producing. It was uncomfortable but he was too exhausted to care, and at least it was better than doing nothing.

By the second day he started to resent sleeping because Round-face had become a seemingly permanent fixture in his weird-ass dreams. He’d never dreamt about her before – or any girl, for that matter – but apparently his subconscious had very different plans for him.

He dreamed about their match at the Sport’s Festival. Except this time, she didn’t pass out before they got serious. They went head to head in combat and somehow she was able to keep up with him (he laughed at this improbability when he woke up because she’d _never_ be able to keep up with him) but weirdly whenever he got an opening to end the match, he hesitated. He wanted to finish it – he _could_ finish it – but she got that look on her dirt-smeared face – all determined and focused and not bubbly or sweet at all - and he didn’t want to. Not yet. Just a little longer, a little more, though he wasn’t not sure whether he was pushing her to the next level, or she was pushing him.

Plus Ultra, or whatever.

He thought about this a lot while awake, wrapped in blankets and downing shots of flu-medicine, because he couldn’t quite pinpoint why it bothered him so much. Why was he even thinking about the Sport’s Festival at all? He didn’t look back, not ever. But she showed flashes of brilliance in the forest too. If she just refined her quirk more then –

_Why was he even thinking about her dumb fighting techniques?_

And that’s how the cycle went while sequestered in his room, until he was woken on the second night by a tapping at his window.

Trying to shrug off the flu med’s drowsiness was hard at the best of times, so he spent a good five minutes blinking groggily at the ceiling until the tapping finally permeated his stupor. He frowned, attention focusing, and wondered what kind of annoying fucking bird was trying to get through his window at – he glanced at his digital clock – 10:34 pm.

The tapping became a knocking and he froze, then leapt out of bed and ripped open the curtains.

Round-face grinned sheepishly at him on his balcony, waving like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he almost tore the sliding door off its hinges in his rush to yell at her.

“What the hell are you doing, you damn pervert! Watching people while they sleep is fucking creepy!”

His voice echoed around the empty campus and her whole body tensed before she slapped her hands over his mouth. “Sh-shush! You’ll wake everyone up!”

He blinked at her sheer audacity before knocking her hands away from his mouth. “DON’T TELL ME TO SHUT UP!”

Her gaze darted to the other balconies as she waved her hands to placate him. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, just please be… less loud, okay? I’m breaking curfew by floating up here and I don’t wanna get in trouble!”

“How’s that my problem? Use the door like a normal person.”

“Well, I tried but you didn’t answer, and you didn’t answer yesterday either, so I was worried and thought –“

“I don’t need you worrying about me! I told you I didn’t want people hasslin’ me.”

“You look better though,” she remarked brightly, then wrinkled her nose. “Though you could do with a shower. You smell like a cotton candy machine.”

Much to his chagrin, he felt his ears going pink, and she giggled like she was the funniest fucking person in the world, then took off her backpack and started rummaging through it.

“Anyway, I’ve got your class notes! I tried sliding them under your door but they wouldn’t fit. I took a lot ‘cause I didn’t want to miss anything out, then Deku-kun saw them and organized them better…” She handed him a thick wad of notes, looking worried. “I hope they’re okay. My handwriting is kinda wonky sometimes so –“

“They’re fine,” he said, tossing them onto his desk without looking. “Are you done playing Peter Pan? I’m tired of lookin’ at your face already.”

His insult washed over her as she dug deeper into her backpack and pulled out a weird assortment of items that he couldn’t quite identify in the dark. “Well, Kirishima-kun said you weren’t eating all the food he left for you outside your door, so I brought you some, um, snacks, I guess. Like grapes and an energy drink and, um… this spicy thing, I don’t know what it is.” She started piling packets and cans and fruit into his hands before he could protest. “The class is really quiet without you so make sure you eat everything and get better, okay?”

He opened his mouth to yell at her but between juggling the obscene amount of food in his arms and trying to dramatically slam his door shut, she’d already leapt off his balcony and floated down, out of sight.

 _What an annoying quirk,_ he decided, then sat on the edge of his bed and shoved four grapes into his mouth at once.

* * *

A knock at the door woke him again at 1pm the next day, and he found himself a tad less groggy as he shuffled out of bed to identity the intruder. It was Aizawa, so he dampened his angry retort into something that skirted close to respect. “What?”

Aizawa’s dark-ringed, bloodshot eyes peered at him over the top of his scarf. “Feeling better?”

“Guess so.”

“Good.” He handed him a surgical mask. “Put this on and come with me. You’ve got a phone call.”

Katsuki belligerently tugged on the surgical mask, then stomped after him down the corridor. “From who?”

“Your parents. They were worried when they couldn’t get through to your cellphone. Which, by the way, U.A. property damage insurance will cover, but the replacement probably won’t come for another few weeks.”

“It was a shit model, anyway. Why didn’t you just tell ‘em I’m fine? Waste of my fucking time.”

“Your mother is very…” Aizawa chewed on the word for a moment. “Persistent.”

Katsuki grunted.

Aizawa glanced sideways at him as they descended the stairs to the dorm lobby. “How did you find working with Uraraka?”

“I hate teamwork.”

“But you stayed with Uraraka.”

“Of course I did, otherwise I would’ve failed.” When Aizawa didn’t comment, he added, “She’s annoying but she doesn’t get in my way as much as everyone else.”

Aizawa averted his gaze and hummed ambiguously. “She mentioned you’ve combined your quirks into a move called Warhead.”

“It’s not finished yet. Probably not even worth my time.”

“Yet you named it.”

He felt a brush of something akin to self-consciousness, but that couldn’t be right, so he ruthlessly stomped it down. “Yeah, and what of it!? You gotta problem with that!?”

“You need to demonstrate quirk combinations to the teachers for approval before putting them to use.”

“What!? Since when?”

“Since always. You can’t just go off and do your own thing like that as a student. It could be dangerous and you’ve already injured Uraraka during your test.”

“That was _her_ fucking fault! If she’d just given me the–“

Aizawa’s stern look cut him off. “Bakugou, over the weekend I want you to write an essay outlining how your actions and words impacted your partner during the exam.”

“What the _actual_ –“

“I want it turned in Monday morning.” He stopped beside the communal phone in the main building. “Talk to your parents, then go back to your dorm and rest up. That’s all.”

Katsuki ground his teeth together as Aizawa trudged away, feeling the anger spit and froth inside his chest. That stupid fucking round-faced idiot grassed on him. _She_ was the one with the issues – not him!

(But if that was the case, then what was this sickly, heavy feeling in his chest?)

He snatched the phone off the top of the unit. “I TOLD YOU NOT TO RING ME WHEN I’M AT SCHOOL, YOU UGLY OLD HAG!”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR PHONE, YOU LITTLE SHIT! THAT CONTRACT COSTS US FIVE THOUSAND YEN A MONTH! YOU BETTER APOLOGISE RIGHT NOW!”

“I’M NOT GONNA APOLOGISE FOR SOMETHING I DON’T FEEL SORRY ABOUT! BUY ME A NEW PHONE OR I’LL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE YOU –“ His threats dissolved into a coughing fit and he leaned against the phone box until it passed.

“You still sick, Katsuki?” his mother asked, anger vanished in a heartbeat. “We were worried, you know. You never get sick. You eatin’ properly?”

“Yes.”

“And taking your supplements?”

“Yes, woman!”

She paused, then sighed gustily. “Anyway, come home this weekend, will you? It’s been a while and we miss you.”

“I don’t need you mothering me! I’m fine!”

“THEN DON’T COME YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING LITTLE BRAT! STAY AT SCHOOL!”

The line went dead and he slammed the phone on the hook, barely avoided blowing it up in the process, then wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve and stalked away. Obviously he didn’t give two shits about his dumb parents… but it _had_ been a while and his mom did make the best spicy udon that always perked him up when he was sick so…

Tch. Fine. He’d go. But not because they’d asked.

It was a pain in the ass getting permission to leave U.A., especially for him considering his run in with the League of Villains (he refused to call it a kidnapping), but they begrudgingly allowed it on the condition he was driven to and from his house.

He returned to his dorm to get changed but ended up falling asleep and didn’t wake again until dark, which pissed him off even more. He almost considered staying in the dorms until the next morning, but he was hungry and now he really wanted that udon, so he found Aizawa in the staff room and demanded to be driven home. Aizawa obliged, and he was outside his house by 8pm.

“Catch up on your classwork while you’re here,” Aizawa told him before Katsuki hopped out the car and belligerently slammed the door.

“I know that!”

As Aizawa drove off, Katsuki sidled up to his front door and used his key to let himself in; immediately the smell of cooking and his mom’s perfume washed over him in a nostalgic wave and took the edge of his irritation.

“Oi, I’m home! You better have cooked that spicy udon otherwise I’m leavin’.” No answer, but he heard his mother yapping somewhere at the back of the house and, after kicking off his shoes, followed the sound of her voice. “Ooooi. Where the fuck are you?”

His mother hit him like a honing missile as he walked into the dining room, simultaneously cuffing him round the back of his head while pinching his cheek. “Don’t swear at me, you little brat! You look pale – why do you look so pale? And your eyes – Katsuki! How sick were you? And what the hell happened to your phone?”

He smacked her hands away from his face, which earned him another cuff. “Get off me, you old bat! Where’s the food?”

But his mother wasn’t done with him yet and leaned down to stare into his eyes with an expression that was two-parts irritation and one-part concern. She pressed her wrist against his forehead and pursed her lips. “Hmm, maybe you _are_ on the mend. That’s good. Don’t worry, kiddo, I’ll feed you up over the weekend, alright?”

She pulled him into a hug that all but smashed his face into her shoulder, and after a moment of stiffly resisting, he submitted and put his arms around her, and mumbled very, very quietly, “…miss’d ‘ou…”

“Oh yeah?” His mother held him at arm’s length and grinned. “Well, I’m not gonna give you the beating you’re definitely owed for losing your phone because your girlfriend’s here and your father has made me promise to behave for an hour so –“

“I didn’t lose my phone, I –“ Her words sank in and he scowled. “My what?”

“Your phone.”

“No, the other–“

“Oh, your girlfriend!” His mother absolutely beamed at him, then stepped aside so he could see the dining room for the first time since he’d arrived home.

Uraraka was kneeling at the dinner table opposite his father, looking red faced and mildly mortified, but maybe not quite as much as he did considering she’d just seen him hug his mother like a dumb mommy’s boy.

“Uh, hi. Hello. Again,” she said. “I’m, um… staying for dinner?”


	9. The Uninvited Guest

**The Uninvited Guest**

* * *

_“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?”_

The words have barely left his mouth before his mother smacked him hard enough to rattle his brain inside his skull.

“DON’T TALK TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND LIKE THAT!”

“SHE’S NOT MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!”

“Language, Katsuki,” his old man chided. He smiled apologetically at Round-face then leaned over the table to top up her tea. Her fucking _tea_. How long had she been here? In his house? With his _parents_?

“Oh, ah, thank you, Mr Bakugou,” Round-face said as her gaze hopped from Katsuki to his father to the tea. “I really don’t mind leaving if you want to have dinner together though – I don’t want to intrude!”

“Get out then,” Katsuki said, then ducked out of another swat from his mother.

“I told ya: you’re not intruding,” his mother said as she disappeared into the kitchen. “I made plenty of food and I don’t want you goin’ back to school hungry. Plus you were nice enough to come all this way to give our useless son his school notes, so it’s the least we can do.” She leaned around the doorframe to fix said useless son with a look that could melt icecaps. “ _Isn’t that right, Katsuki_?”

Round-face winced apologetically, and he begrudgingly admitted this wasn’t entirely her fault. His mom probably dragged her inside and force-fed her tea until she agreed to stay. So if it was anyone’s fault, it was his mom’s. Stupid old hag.

“Whatever,” he said, then slumped down next to her at the table.

“Uraraka-chan was just telling us how you combined your quirk during the last exam,” his father said brightly. “Warhead, is it? Sounds exciting!”

“Stop telling people like it’s official!” Katsuki snapped, then hollered over his shoulder, “Oi, ma, get me a soda!”

“Get it yourself, you lazy brat! And offer your girlfriend a drink!”

“Oh, ah, I’m good with tea, thank you, Mrs Bakugou!” Round-face said, then turned her attention to his dad. “I think it has the potential to be really powerful if we use it right, so I’m happy Katsuki-kun thought of it. Although I don’t do much, honestly. Just float him into the sky, heh heh!”

“Is that your quirk, Uraraka-chan?”

She nodded, then ran her fingers over a pair of chopsticks and levitated them just as his mother reappeared with two trays piled with food.

“Uwah, that’s a cool quirk! You’re literally bending the laws of physics!” she said.

“She could do cooler stuff with it,” Katsuki cut in while elbowing Round-face out the way to get to the rice first, “if she actually used her head for once.”

“She nearly beat you at the Sport’s Festival,” his father pointed out.

Katsuki lobbed a saltshaker at him but his mother caught it with lightning-quick reflexes and shot it back at his head.

“I’ll beat him next time!” Round-face declared cheerfully. Then she snatched the chopsticks out of the air and beamed. “Thank you for the food!”

Katsuki angrily slurped his udon while glaring sideways at Uraraka. She thought she could beat him? Feh! What a deluded idiot. She’d been hanging around that dumb nerd way too much. There was no way she’d get a scratch on him. No way.

There was a peculiar itch under his skin then, like restlessness and eagerness combined, and suddenly he wanted to blow something up real bad.

_I’d like to see her try._

“Anyway,” his mother said around a mouthful of food, “I’m glad Katsuki’s made such nice friends at U.A. Being such a troublemaker, he’s always had difficult friends, other than that sweet boy with the freckles -”

“DEKU ISN’T MY FRIEND -”

“- but between you and Kirishima, you might actually be able to beat some sense into the idiot. He’s really a big softy deep down -”

“WILL YOU SHUT UP ALREADY –“

“- I mean, just look at him!”

And here, much to Katsuki’s horror, she pulled from the set of drawers behind her a photo of him aged three year’s old, dressed in an All Might onesie and cuddling a plush bear that was almost as big as him.

Uraraka snorted, almost spitting rice over the table, then took the photo. “Awwwh, Katsuki-kun, you’re so –“

“FINISH THAT SENTENCE AND I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.” He snatched the photo out of Uraraka’s hand and was about to blow it to ash when his mother levelled him with a death glare.

“Blow that up and you’ll be shitting out your own teeth for a week.”

He hesitated, half wanting to call her bluff, then pulled a face and slammed it onto the table. Round-face stifled more laughter into her hand, which he very graciously decided to ignore.

But he would definitely remember it during their next sparring match.

“Please, dear, don’t be so crass in front of guests,” his father pleaded while patting his mom nervously on the shoulder. “I don’t want our guest thinking we’re uncouth.”

“I would never,” Uraraka said with a totally serious expression. “Mrs Bakugou, can you make explosions too?”

“Gods, no,” she replied while leaning across the table to dish more rice into Katsuki’s bowl. “I just sweat glycerin.”

“Is that why your skin is so nice?”

His mom tittered then slapped Katsuki on the arm. “Oooh, I _like_ her. She’s definitely a keeper.”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!” Katsuki yelled, then shoveled perhaps half a ton of rice into his mouth because he swore if that was a blush creeping across his face, he was going to bring the ceiling down before letting anyone see it.

“I’m the one that can make explosions,” his father said, then put down his chopsticks and clapped his hands together. A small spark burst between his palms before spluttering out, and he tittered bashfully. “Nowhere near as powerful as Katsuki’s, as you can see. He gets all the firepower from his mother… in more ways than one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his mother snapped.

“Nothing, dear.”

“You got somethin’ to say to me?”

“Of course not –“

“Don’t fucking fight when we have guests!” Katsuki yelled.

“Shut your mouth, brat, before I shut it for you!”

Katsuki leapt to his feet, knocking over his bowl of rice. “I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY, YOU DAMN HARPY!”

“K-Katsuki, don’t speak to your mother like –“

“YOU RUIN MY DINNER AND I’LL RUIN YOUR FACE!”

“BRING IT ON, OLD HAG!”

And as was tradition in the Bakugou household, another dinner was preemptively and abruptly ended in a spray of shattered china, singed chopsticks and rice bullets, although this time his old man’s pitiful whining was joined by Round-face’s laughter.

* * *

When the dust settled and Katsuki begrudgingly admitted defeat to his mother, he found Round-face and his father talking by the genkan; she was considerably pinker than usual and looked close to having some sort of breakdown. He swore to the gods if it involved another baby picture someone was going to lose their eyebrows.

“Oi, what are you tellin’ her?”

“I r-really honestly can’t, it’s too much!” Round-face stammered. “Please, you’ve already been so kind and I simply couldn’t –“

“We were going to recycle it anyway,” his father said, pushing something into her hands. “It’s no trouble.”

“B-but the school will just replace my old one –“

“You givin’ her that phone?” his mother sang, appearing from a side room. “Good, we were going to get rid of it anyway.”

“You’re giving _her_ a phone?” Katsuki echoed incredulously “Where’s my fuckin’ phone?”

“You don’t deserve shit!” his mother snapped, but conjured an old model from nowhere and handed it to him. “Just use my old iPhone until your new one arrives. We gave the nicer one to Uraraka-chan because she deserves it more than you do.”

Round-face looked close to passing out. “It’s j-just I don’t have any money and this phone is so fancy and nice and it’s got a touchscreen and everything, I really can’t –“

“Of course you can,” his mother said cheerily. “But if it bothers you that much you can always return it later. We have a ton of spares anyway because someone –“ she speared Katsuki with a look – “blows his up every couple of months.”

“The insurance company won’t let us claim for them anymore,” his father mumbled morosely. “Anyway, I added Katsuki’s number into the contacts; I’m sure you’ll need it.”

Round-face blinked at him, eyes darting to Katsuki. “Oh, right. Sure! Th-thank you. I, um…that is…” She bowed so low she almost keeled forward. “Thank you so much! I’ll definitely return it when I get my old one replaced! And thank you for dinner! Your family is so much fun!”

His mother sighed dramatically and crossed her arms. “How on earth did you end up with such a nice girlfriend, Katsuki? She’s way too good for you.”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLF-“

“You’re welcome back for dinner anytime,” his father said. “It’s been nice to speak to someone rational for a change. We might even make it to dessert next time!”

His mother bristled. “Are you saying I’m not rational?”

“Of course not, dear. Katsuki, walk your girlfriend to the bus stop.”

“No!” he barked, stomping towards the stairs. “She’s more than capable of lookin’ after herself –“

“WALK YOUR GIRLFRIEND TO THE BUS STOP OR I WILL WALK YOU INTO AN EARLY GRAVE!” His mother grabbed him by the back of his shirt and booted him out the front door. He landed gracelessly on his ass, but before he could blow his house a new entrance, Round-face rammed on her shoes, hurriedly bowed, then cajoled him to his feet.

“Thank you for dinner, Mr and Mrs Bakugou!”

“Come back soon, Uraraka-chan!”

She pushed him toward the front gate, and he let her only because he wasn’t in the mood to get into a second fight with that stupid harpy he occasionally called a mother. Once out of earshot, he turned on her, practically spitting flames.

“Who the hell turns up at someone’s house like that, you damn stalker! As if I don’t see enough of you at school! How did you even get my address?”

“Kirishima gave it to me,” she said, indifferent to his anger as she wrapped her scarf around her mouth to ward off the winter’s chill. “I wasn’t sure if you were taking time off school, so I wanted to make sure you got all your notes. Anyway, I’m glad I did ‘cause your mom and dad are so nice. My parents were always working or too tired to eat, so we hardly ever had dinner together, which is why I want to provide for them so we can – oh! Ah, sorry, you probably don’t wanna hear about my boring family life, heh heh.”

He vaguely recalled overhearing gossip about her coming from a poor family. Something about Hawaii, too, though he couldn’t remember what. Nor did he particularly care. Gossiping was what boring, bitter people did when they didn’t have the brain cells to entertain themselves.

The bus stop was on the same stretch of road as his house, so they didn’t have to walk far. He frowned when they arrived, hunching his shoulders against the intrusive cold as his breath steamed around his face. “Why aren’t the teachers picking you up?”

“I’m not high-risk,” she told him, then sheepishly added, “and I maaaay not have told them I was coming here.”

“WHAT!?”

“I didn’t think I’d be gone so long! And the bus trip is really short; I’ll be fine.”

“For fuck’s sake, what if something happens on the way back?”

“You just said I can look after myself.”

“I know, but –“

“Look, I’ll text you when I get back, okay?” She held up the phone his father gave her. “If I don’t message in half an hour then you can call the teachers.”

“Fuck that! I’ll be comin’ after you myself!”

She stared at him in surprise long enough to make him feel slightly self-conscious. Which was dumb. Why should she be surprised about that? “What?”

“N-nothing!” she bleated, then chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “It’s just… you said some really awful things to me during the exam. You know that, right?”

He opened his mouth to bite back, but suddenly the memory of her big, watery eyes flashed in his mind and his retort vanished under… under what?

Guilt?

“I’m not gonna let you say whatever you like to me anymore,” she went on, “because I know that underneath all that meanness, you’re kinda…”

The droning of the approaching bus cut her off and they turned in unison, squinting at the glaring headlights, as the bus chortled to a halt. The door cranked open, but he caught her arm before she could step on. “I’m kinda what?”

She glanced at his hand, then back at him, and her face contorted into a playful smirk. “A big dummy!”

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” he hollered as the bus doors shut behind her. She waved cheerfully from behind the safety of public property, and he swore to all the gods he was gonna give her hell for it on Monday.

His heart was still pounding with what he presumed to be rage when he got home, and the beginning of a migraine poked his temple. “Oi, ma, you got anything stronger than aspirin? MA!”

“She’s cleaning the mess you made in the front room,” his father said, poking his head out his office. “Do you have another migraine?”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

His father’s face creased with concern. “You need to watch your blood pressure, Katsuki. You know what the doctor said –“

“I fucking know what they said –“

“- if there’s too much nitroglycerin in your blood, it’s going to cause big issues for you long term. Have you been getting heart palps?”

“No.”

“I was worried you’d been pushing yourself too hard in that school,” his father went on while he rummaged around his desk drawer for some medication. “But after meeting Uraraka-chan tonight, I feel a bit better. I get the feeling she won’t be pushed around, just like your mother, but you be nice to her anyway.”

“ _I’m always nice!”_ Katsuki roared, snatching the meds out of his father’s hand. “I’m goin’ to bed so you better not wake me, old man.”

“Alright, son. Rest up.”

Katsuki swallowed two of the pills dry as he stomped up the stairs to his bedroom, then slammed the door and collapsed into bed. He was more tired than he cared to admit, even if the flu was slowly disappearing. Two days of uninterrupted rest and spicy udon would set him right by Monday, then he’d catch up on what he’d missed in no time.

He was just drifting off to sleep when his phone buzzed, reminding him of Round-face, and he blinked blearily at the screen.

**Got back safe!** **😊**

Of course she did. She could look after herself. He hadn’t been worried or anything. Not even slightly.

His phone buzzed again and this time he thumbed it on a tad more angrily.

**Thank you for dinner, I had a really nice time. I hope I can see your family again!**

**Don’t fucking text me when I’m trying to sleep, Compass-tits** , he shot back, but before he could turn off the phone it pinged again with another message -

**Whatever you say, mommy’s boy**

\- and Katsuki exploded the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for Bakugou's dad


	10. Self Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our angy boi is gonna be changing but real slow so hang on tight 'cause it's a bumpy ride, k? k.

**Self-Reflection**

It was Sunday evening when Katsuki remembered he had an essay to write. An essay on personal reflection – his least favorite topic of discussion. What did he need to reflect on? He was going to be the Number One Hero someday, which meant he had to be the best at everything. And he was. Without a doubt. Why did he need to reflect on that stupid exam in the woods? He’d gotten the figurine, hadn’t he? And worked well with his teammate?

…Right?

There was no getting away from teamwork, as much as he hated to accept the fact. He’d thought he would sail through U.A. and straight into pro work without carrying deadweights along behind him, but he’d been dead wrong.

Well. Maybe deadweight was too harsh a label for some people (albeit a tiny minority), and sometimes working with others had proved beneficial to his own growth. Like with Warhead. Round-face had been a great steppingstone to better himself, even it meant admitting her quirk wasn’t _totally_ lame.

Katsuki’s face crumpled at the thought of her. How she’d managed to get so under his skin was beyond him; he didn’t know whether he wanted to fight her or ignore or… or _something_. That feeling sat in his chest like a restless bird trying to break free of its cage and he didn’t like it; not one bit.

He especially didn’t like how his mind occasionally trailed back to how she’d felt nestled against him in the tent. How she’d smelled like pine trees and campfire smoke and, inexplicably, coconut. How her look of annoyance had dissolved into a giggle as he’d pulled her, dripping wet and shivering, out of lake with the fish in her hands. How her eyes had looked like velvet and glitter under the stars.

And that shitty, jarring feeling that had shot through him when she’d blinked up at him with tears coursing down her cheeks, just because he’d been tired and angry and maybe, just maybe, hadn’t known when to shut his mouth.

That recollection made him angrier, though he wasn’t sure what he was angry about. Katsuki rarely did, honestly; anger was a second skin now, as much a part of him as his blood and bones, as reflexive as breathing. He’d been told he was too angry on more than one occasion – but why should he care about that? He’d gotten this far with his fury and passion and power – why would he need to change now?

Round-Face’s big, wet eyes flashed to the forefront of his mind again and he scowled.

Fine. He would reflect. But that didn’t mean he was going to change.

Katsuki slumped at his desk and pulled out a lined notebook and pen. Might as well get this over with. It wasn’t like it was going to require a lot of thought.

 _‘How My Actions Impacted My Partner’_ he scrawled angrily at the top of the sheet.

Well, first of fucking all, they completed the task because of him. Which was kind of the main point; he might as well stop writing there. Second of all, he’d navigated them both to the goal on instinct alone. And third, he’d created a quirk combination that ended up contributing to their success. So. All points for him.

Right?

He gnawed on the end of his pen, glaring at the wall.

Admittedly, he probably shouldn’t have blown up the map, regardless of his own personal sentiments of its value. It was an orienteering exercise after all. But _she_ hadn’t trusted his instincts enough – hadn’t even given him a chance – and then had the audacity to hide the compass from him like he’d be stupid enough to blow up their only other means of navigating. Now _that_ was shitty teamwork.

…Right?

Begrudgingly, he scribbled down a point about how destroying a means of orienteering affected their ability to navigate to the goal, and how he should have let Rou – _Uraraka_ look at it before deciding it was ultimately obsolete compared to his instincts, which were never _ever_ wrong.

There.

Also, he’d bet money that Uraraka would’ve trusted _that nerd_ to lead her; she’d follow him blindly into a fire even if it meant they both burned to a crisp, like the dumb groupie she was. Why did she even waste time with him and his collection of extras? She’d be far better off with people who could utilize her quirk properly.

But anyway.

Next point: _‘My health isn’t anyone’s business, but not admitting I was ill at the beginning of the exam could have put my partner at risk if I’d been unable to engage in combat or provide support.’_

He wasn’t going to apologize for being ill, nor admit that Round-face had been extremely patient and helpful while he’d been a useless mess and blown up her hand and then the tent respectively. Not his fault, but he still felt shitty about it. Even if she had dropped him in the fucking river.

Which. Well. Maybe that was partly his fault too. Because he’d gotten angry and stolen her phone then ran off and fallen over the edge of a cliff like a dumbass. All because she’d been concerned about his health.

Katsuki gritted his teeth and penned the next point hard enough to leave indents in the page underneath. _‘I shouldn’t have stolen Uraraka’s phone. It was her personal property and destroying it meant we had no means of communication in an emergency.’_

What else? He wasn’t going to apologize for setting a fast pace, because Round-face could absolutely keep up if she just applied herself more. All the other damage had been inadvertently caused by his temporary lack of quirk control from sneezing, so he wasn’t going to apologize for that either.

He scrolled back through his memories of the exam, before finally settling on the one that made him the most uncomfortable: their fight. And it had been a fight; he couldn’t deny that. Neither of them was strangers to violence, but she must have known he would never seriously hurt her? He had given her plenty of warning too, and _she’d_ been the one to start it anyway; he’d just finished it.

Except. That wasn’t entirely true. He’d provoked her into attacking him because he’d called her… called her an ugly, dumb bitch then told her –

_(You said some really awful things to me during the exam, you know that, right?)_

You’ll never be a hero.

That traitorous guilt spiked through his core again and when his glare fixed on the pen he noticed it was trembling slightly in his hand. He angrily put it down, then wiped his palms on his pants before tousling his hair.

Okay, that had been fucked up. Really, really fucked up. Not only because he’d known full well it would hurt because of her shit self-esteem, but because, at times, people had told him the same thing, albeit in not so many words. The league had _literally_ kidnapped him for their cause because that’s how un-heroic they thought he was. Just because he had a temper. Just because the teachers didn’t get him sometimes and tried to force him into a soft mold that didn’t quite fit his sharp edges.

And that was fine. He didn’t give a fuck if they didn’t get him. But that didn’t mean he was a bad person.

Except… fueling a classmate’s insecurities wasn’t a thing good people did. It was stupid and cruel. She’d admitted she admired him (obviously) and he’d spat in her face like a… a…

 _Villain_.

Katsuki blew air through his nose, glaring at the words already scrawled across the paper, then picked up the pen again.

_‘I was abusive to my teammate. She didn’t deserve it. I will do better.’_

* * *

He felt back to his normal self on Monday morning, so his old man dropped him off at U.A. on the way to work. Heading straight to the homeroom, he was greeted enthusiastically by Kirishima and Kaminari like he’d been gone a year instead of a measly few days.

“Even Lord Explosion Murder can’t defeat the flu,” Kaminari joked while elbowing Katsuki in the ribs. “Nice to know you’re not completely infallible.”

“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbled, shoving through the clingy crowd to his desk.

“People said they saw you blast above the treeline like a firework – but you still passed!” Kirishima exclaimed with an over enthusiastic demonstration and sound effects. “You can’t shoot that high normally. You got a new move or something?”

Katsuki propped his feet on his desk and moodily glanced at Round-face’s desk, even though she hadn’t arrived yet. “Maybe.”

“What! You can’t leave us hangin’ like that, man. Spill the goss!”

“Not worth talking about.” And he meant it; it wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. Maybe by the end of the week it would be, if Round-face put her brain into gear for a change.

As his annoying cluster of tag-a-longs retreated to their desks, he heard rather than saw Uraraka as she walked into class. Funny how he’d never noticed her bright hails before, but now they cut through the meaningless background noise and straight into his brain like a damn foghorn.

How annoying.

Apparently it was her turn to clean the chalkboard today because she skipped past him without so much as a backward glance, picked up the cleaning spray and cloth, then began furiously scrubbing.

When she floated to reach the top corners, he noticed that she kept one hand clamped to the back of her skirt to flatten it. He scowled. Just the thought of some weirdo trying to catch a look under her skirt speared him with an unexpected shot of rage, and he raked his gaze over the class. Nobody was looking at her, which was good, because even though he didn’t give a damn about Round-face’s dignity, anyone trying to look up her skirt would’ve caught a fistful of hell fire.

“Feet off the desk.”

Caught unawares, Katsuki couldn’t react in time before Aizawa shoved his boots off the desk, then fixed him with that dead-eyed, unreadable stare. “Did you complete the essay I asked you to do last week?”

“Of course I did!” he snapped, tugging the essay out of his books and handing it over.

“Good. I’ll read it after class so stay behind for an evaluation.”

Katsuki tsked. He didn’t need to hear Aizawa’s opinions on his self-reflection, or whatever the hell that essay was meant to achieve. It was a waste of his damn time.

When he looked up again, Round-face had released her quirk and was staring at him wearing a wide-eyed, curious look. He opened his mouth to ask her what the hell her problem was, but then she suddenly skipped up to him and her blinding smile efficiently shot down his retort.

“Morning Deku!”

She skipped right past him. Completely ignored him. Didn’t even look at him, much less greet him, and went straight to that… that _fucking nerd!_

The anger that washed through him then was somehow familiar and fresh at the same time, a new kind of anger. What was it? Their banal chatter behind him chaffed his temper like wool on an open wound and suddenly he wanted to punch Deku square his cheerful fucking face.

Well, fuck them both.

Aizawa’s introduction of the upcoming week was muted beneath his simmering anger until the bell signaling the end of the class snapped him back to the present. He almost forgot to stay behind until Aizawa reminded him, and he stood beside his desk while the rest of the class filed out and Aizawa read his essay. His gaze tagged on Uraraka as she left with the other lame extras, but she was utterly oblivious to his rage as she laughed at some shared joke with the frog girl.

 _Idiot_.

“Bakugou.”

Katsuki shook out of his stupor and swiveled his gaze to Aizawa. It seemed he’d been calling him for some time. “What?”

“This is a good start. Seems Uraraka taught you a lot in your short time together.”

“She didn’t teach me shit!”

“Are you going to talk to her?”

“About what?”

Aizawa tapped the front of the essay on his desk.

_(You’ll never be a hero.)_

“Yes, I’ll fucking talk to her,” Katsuki consented grumpily. “Later.”

“By the end of the day,” Aizawa said sternly. “We’re here to guide and support you, Bakugou. You don’t need me or any of the other teachers to iterate the potential you have, but a bit of humility will go a long way. Uraraka is a good, hardworking student and demonstrated commendable tolerance during your exam.”

Katsuki snatched the essay off the desk and rammed it into his pant pocket. “I know that! I said I’d talk to her, so I will, alright!?”

Aizawa stared at him a moment more, then turned back to the paperwork on his desk. “See that you do.”

* * *

He wanted to speak to her privately, but damn if it wasn’t impossible catching her without her private group of insufferables, particularly Deku, who seemed glued to her like jam. Or was it the other way round? It was hard to tell, but it continued to wear thin his already thin temper over the course of the day until even his own group of insufferables deemed _him_ too insufferable to be around.

So he lurked alone on the edge of the common room, watching for a moment when she was alone, until _finally_ she left the others gathered on the couches to grab a snack from the mini fridge.

She jumped out of her skin when he all but pounced on her, kicking the mini fridge shut with his foot and looming over her with his hands shoved in his pockets. A day of inexplicable frustration boiled inside of him and he completely forgot why he’d gotten into this situation the first place.

“Oi, asshole,” he hissed. “You been avoiding me?”

She blinked her great big eyes at him in confusion. “Eh? How can I avoid you when we’re in the same class?”

He didn’t have an answer for that.

“Why? Did you want something?” she asked.

“Yes, you fucking dumbass, _obviously_ I need to talk to you but you’re so fucking dense the building could collapse on top of you and you still wouldn’t notice!”

She stiffened under his sharp tongue, her expression crinkling into a frown, then she yanked open the fridge door hard enough to knock away his foot. She grabbed a soda and then, wordlessly, breezed past him.

He stared at her retreating back for a long moment and barely – _barely_ – restrained the urge to blast her off her feet for daring to ignore him. Him! Who the hell did she think she was? And now she was going to sit back down with Deku like she didn’t care that he was trying to fucking apologize.

Well, fine. He’d let her have this one, but she couldn’t avoid him forever.

Even Kirishima wouldn’t spar with him when he was this angry, so he stalked around the dorm block in an attempt to cool down while figuring out a way he could corner her so she couldn’t escape and _had_ to listen. If he went off in front of the others they’d only intervene, and he didn’t need their hot takes on the situation. He knew where he’d fucked up and was doing his best to rectify the situation.

Why didn’t she understand that?

The day drew to a close and, unable to find her, he deduced she’d gone to her room, which presented him the best opportunity to speak to her alone. Still seething, he burst through the divide that separated their dorm floor and hammered against her closed bedroom door.

“Oi, Compass-tits! Open up!”

He heard a squeak and a clatter from the other side. Good, she was in. He rammed his hands in his pockets and waited for her to answer.

And waited.

Nothing.

Gritting his teeth, he pounded on the door again. “Open the fuck up, dumbass! You gonna keep me waitin’, huh?”

Nothing.

“I swear to god I will break down this fucking door if you don’t answer right now!”

Still nothing, and Katsuki felt his threadbare temper finally snap. Explosions crackled loudly against his palms as he kicked her door, rattling it on is hinges. “OPEN UP OR WILL BLAST IT OPEN YOU DUMB FUCK!”

“Bakugou-kun.”

He whirled on the familiar voice to his right, explosions dancing on his fingertips, and came face to face with the frog girl. What was her name? Tsu-something? “What the fuck do you want!?”

“I’m not gonna let you break down Chako-chan’s door, kero,” she said, her large eyes glassy with annoyance. “Why do you want to talk to her?”

“Mind your own business!”

“Ochako is my best friend, so someone calling her names is my business. Besides, you’re going to get in trouble if you break down her door.”

“Then maybe she should opEN THE _FUCK UP!”_ he yelled, aiming the last words at said door.

Tsuyu sighed. “Have you tried, you know… asking her _nicely_? And actually addressing her by name?”

Katsuki rounded on her again, anger pulsing out of him in sparks and crackles. “ _What!?”_

“You must know by now that she’s not gonna let you push her around, _kero_.”

“But she won’t listen!”

“Probably because you’re being a real asshole right now.”

“WHAT DID YOU FUCKING SAY? I’ll kill you, you damn –“

“ _Katsuki!”_

His head whipped around to appraise Uraraka standing in her open doorway. She looked more annoyed than he’d ever known her to look; in fact, she looked downright angry. Which in turn made _him_ angry, because what right did she have to be angry at him?

But before he could yell his frustration, she leaned around the door and waved cheerfully at frog girl. “Don’t mind us, Tsu! He’s just having a tantrum.”

“I AM NOT HAVING A TANTRUM, YOU -“

“Sorry for disturbing you!” she went on. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay, so don’t worry!”

And then much to his surprise she grabbed the front of his shirt, yanked him into her room, and slammed the door shut behind them.


	11. New Flavor of Rage

**New Flavor of Rage**

Katsuki suffered a moment of disorientation as Uraraka pulled him into her room and shoved him forward. He’d expected something more… frilly. And pink. It was almost boyish in its minimalism, but honestly, he was far more preoccupied by how it smelt like coconut and… well, _her_. It weirded him out that he knew her scent, all because she’d invaded his personal space during the exam in the woods, and now it was imprinted in his brain like a damn virus.

He whirled around to confront her. She stood in front of her closed door with her hands on her hips, scowling like this was somehow _his_ fault.

“Why didn’t you open the damn door?” he snarled. “I know you could hear me!”

“Hearing you and choosing to listen are two different things,” she told him tartly, far from intimidated as he tried (and failed) to back her against the door.

“So I was right: you _were_ ignoring me!” he said. “Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“How the hell should I know what rattles around in that empty head of yours? I’d start losing brain cells if I spent more than two seconds dwelling on your idiocy!”

Her scowl deepened and she crossed her arms. “Is that what you wanted to tell me? That I’m dumb?”

“Yes!” he roared, then suddenly remember why he was here. “No!”

“Yes or no? Which is it?”

His temper howled in his ears like stormy seas crashing against a rockface and all the day’s anger and frustration surmounted into stuttered, fragmented words and explosions on his palms. Everything swam out of focus beneath the tide of his rage, and he couldn’t string a single coherent thought together, much less speak, which only made him angrier because what the hell was _wrong_ with him?

Her frown softened, then much to his surprise, she rested her hands on his shoulders and sighed.

“Geez, you’re gonna blow a fuse if you keep this up. Calm down, okay?”

“Do not,” he seethed, “tell me to calm down when I’ve been trying to talk to you all. Fucking. Day. And you haven’t even _tried_ to listen –“

“Well, I’m listening now,” she said, “but I’m going to stop listening the moment you call me anything mean. Do you understand? I like being around you, but I’m not gonna take your abuse like a brick wall. Take a breath and try again.”

As her words worked to calm his temper, he abruptly realized how close they were standing, how warm her hands were on his shoulders, that pervasive smell of coconut in her hair, and how she was wearing –

He blinked.

“Is that my shirt?”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she snatched her hands off his shoulders, eyes roaming the walls. “Well, uh, you forgot to take it back and it’s wash day and I d-didn’t have anything else s-so –“

“So you thought you’d wear my favorite fucking shirt as a pajama top?”

“Um… Yes? I can give it back tomorrow if you – “

“And you didn’t even wash it, you weirdo!” He could smell the nitroglycerin on it, which was gross – he’d literally trekked over a mountain in that thing! – and if it grossed him out, why the hell didn’t it gross her out?

Well, whatever.

“Just keep it,” he said indifferently. “I’ll get another one from my old man.”

Her expression shifted into a different kind of mortified. “Oh my gosh, did your dad design this?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“Now I’ve taken two things from your parents!”

“My parents gave you that stupid phone, you didn’t take it, so shut up about it already, dum –“ He caught himself before calling her a name, then awkwardly scratched the back of his head. Right. He came here for a reason.

He took a deep breath and stared at a point in the corner of her room. “I wanted to… to say that I’m…I’m… _sorry,_ alright _?_ ”

She leaned against the door, locking her hands behind the small of her back. “About what?”

He struggled against the reflex to yell at her for making him say more – wasn’t sorry enough? – but through gritted teeth he added, “For calling you names. And… and stealing your phone. And fighting with you.” He swallowed, then begrudgingly shifted his gaze to hers. “You’re gonna be a great hero.”

She stared at him in silence for an uncomfortably long moment, then her blank expression split into a dazzling smile. “I know that, silly!”

“For fuck’s sake –“

“But it means a lot hearing it from the future Number One.”

His heart lurched in his chest, which was dumb, because he didn’t need or want her validation. Of course he was going to be Number One. “Thought you’d be rooting for that idiot nerd.”

“Oh, I am!” she said brightly. “It’ll be one of you, I’m sure.”

“It’ll be me!” he barked angrily, then made an effort to rein in his temper before he called her something he’d regret. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say, so get out the way. It stinks of your hair in here.”

She fluffed up self-consciously, mouth falling open. “Eeeh!? What do you mean? Are you saying my hair smells bad? I wash it every day!”

“It smells like a fuckin’ tiki bar.”

“It’s coconut shampoo!”

“I don’t care!”

“How can you not like the smell of coconut?”

“Did I say I didn’t like it? Get out the way, I’m tired.”

She stepped aside, looking nonplussed and pink cheeked, and he almost slammed the door in her face in his rush to get out of this weird situation that was somehow, inexplicably, getting weirder by the minute.

But she caught his arm as he tried to leave and he glanced over his shoulder at her. “What?”

“Did the teachers make you apologize?”

“Hah?”

“It’s just Aizawa-sensei mentioned an essay so…”

“It was just some dumb self-reflection thing, I dunno. But no, they didn’t make me. I meant what I said: I’m sorry. So drop it already.”

“R-right. Well. Thank you… Your apology means a lot to me, Katsuki.”

His stomach did that weird drop again, so he hurriedly snatched his arm out of her grip and left.

* * *

With his apology accepted, he expected all thought of her annoying round face to vacate his thoughts, but of course things were never that simple. He was hyper aware of her presence whenever they shared a room, then hyper aware of her absence whenever they didn’t. It was baffling and infuriating and he just wanted to blow a hole in the wall or something before he lost his damn mind. Worse still, he kept dreaming about her, so he couldn’t escape her even at night; he relived their fight at Sports Festival over and over and over until he was sure he was being punished by some unscrupulous god.

He didn’t bother to think on it deeply, just chalked it up to battle lust, and decided to ignore her for a few days because he couldn’t think of any other way to tackle it. How hard could that be? It wasn’t like he’d thought about her at all before the stupid exam in the woods, or like anything had changed – and even it had, who cared? She was dumb and unimportant and not worth a second of his time.

That became his mantra over the next few days as he attempted to bleach out her inscrutable influence. And it worked, for the most part, until Thursday morning when he was woken at 6am by a familiar knocking at his window. He leapt out of bed, absolutely raging, because there was no way she was bothering him now. No way. It had to be a bird because she wouldn’t be this dumb –

He tore open his curtains and sure enough, Round-face was there, contemplating the sunrise with a protein bar wedged into the corner of one of her big, pink cheeks.

Un-fucking-believable.

“Mornin’! Did I wake you? I thought you’d be up by now but, uh…” She trailed off as her eyes drew downwards and her cheeks turned pinker.

Right. He was only wearing his boxers. Well, that was _her_ problem for dropping onto his balcony at an ungodly hour in the morning. And what did she have to be embarrassed about anyway when she’d stripped him to stave off hypothermia during the exam? What a fucking prude.

“I thought I told you to knock on my door like a normal person!” he yelled through the glass dor. “What do you think you are, a fucking alarm clock? Get lost!”

“Clearly you need one,” she chided. “Are you coming or not?”

“Where?”

“To work on Warhead, duh.”

Oh. Right. He’d almost forgotten about that. “I didn’t say today.”

“Kirishima said you’ve got a free morning so I thought –“

“Why the hell are you askin’ Shitty-hair about my schedule?”

“Because you’ve been avoiding me all week!”

“No I haven’t!” (He had.) “You have my number so text me like a normal person instead of floating onto my balcony like a weird bird! You don’t see me blowing a hole in your door to speak to you!”

“Uh… I mean… You almost did the other day so –“

“I KICKED IT, THAT’S DIFFERENT!”

She blew air into her cheeks and crossed her arms. “So you don’t wanna spar?”

“No!” (He did.)

She looked disappointed, then she shrugged and hopped onto the balcony’s rail. “Well, I won’t bother you again since you’re _soooo_ busy. You have my number so message me when you’re free.” And then she leapt over the edge and disappeared.

He stared blankly at his reflection in the glass door, chewing on his own simmering disappointment, because he liked Warhead and wanted to work on it, but he didn’t want to think about her anymore, much less be around her. But without her there wouldn’t be a Warhead; either he swallowed his stupid pride or abandoned the move completely – and that was not an option if he was going to be Number One someday.

He marched off to the shower, got dressed, then headed to cafeteria, partly for breakfast but mostly to find Uraraka. She wasn’t there, which instantly made him angry. He all but inhaled two bowls of cereal before Kirishima appeared, and he pounced on him before he had a chance to sit down.

“Where the fuck is Uraraka!?”

Kirishima blinked at him, caught off guard by his foul mood at 6.30am. “Oh yeah, I meant to tell you she wanted to spar this morning. Guess I forgot. Sorry, man. Did she find you?”

“Where is she now?”

“Uh, I mean, I couldn’t say exactly, but I saw her walking with Midoriya on my way here. Maybe they’re at Gym Gamma?”

 _Deku_. Of course that green-haired shrimp would swoop in to steal his sparring partner like the sly little fuck he was. And of course Uraraka would skulk after him like an empty-headed groupie.

Gods, it made him _mad_.

“What’s up?” Kirishima asked, eyeing Katsuki’s growing rage with one-part apprehension and two-parts confusion.

“Nothing!” Katsuki roared in his face, then headed for the exit. 

He wasn’t even dressed for sparring and had left his gauntlets in his room, but that didn’t matter; he could take Uraraka on without them. He had before, hadn’t he? It was better if they were evenly matched, anyway. It would feel ten times better when he kicked her ass.

“Oi, you’re gonna get in trouble if you fight with Midoriya again,” Kirishima called from some way behind him.

“I’m not after Midoriya!” Katsuki snapped, not looking back. “Just stay outta my way!”

“Bro, I dunno what’s got you so worked up but I think you better take a second before you –“

“Shut the fuck up, Shitty-hair! Mind your business or get lost!”

He rounded a corner and on the long stretch of path that led to Gym Gamma he spotted Uraraka and Deku. Walking side by side and laughing like they were… were something more than friends and for some reason…

It pissed him off so. Fucking. _Bad_.

All rational thought obscured behind a red-tinted haze, Katsuki closed the distance with a powerful blast and kicked Deku square between the shoulder blades. The boy shot forward, tumbling head over heels before irritatingly springing to his feet, and beside him Uraraka screeched.

“Think you can steal my sparring partner, you sniveling little shit!? I’ll fucking kill you!”

Deku remained crouched in a defensive position, his face twisted into a grimace that sat somewhere between misery and confusion. “Kaachan?”

Kirishima planted a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “Oi! Bakugou, what’s gotten into you? You know you’ll get in trouble if you spar outside of the gym!”

Katsuki knew this of course, but logic was dulled beneath this weird, sickly feeling that filled him with rage. He shrugged Kirishima off and advanced on Deku, heart pounding painfully in his chest, blood roaring in his ears. “I’m gonna knock your teeth out the back of your fucking skull, you pathetic piece of shit!”

Deku’s mouth hung open beneath his knitted brow, utter confusion writ across his face. “Kaachan, you’re not making any sense! Just stop this – ah!”

Katsuki was on him before he could finish his sentence. His excuses were irrelevant because nothing would make it better; it never did. All he could do was silence him with power, again and again, reminding him how weak he was, how he would never be worthy of sparring with her, how she was just wasting her time with an idiot like him.

Deku ducked out of his first punch and leapt back to avoid his second, and as Katsuki swung again with the intention to close the space, Uraraka suddenly leapt between them and caught his fist. He had one second to be surprised before he started floating off the ground, and then everything dissolved into familiar anger.

_“Put me down!”_

She grasped his wrist to stop him from floating higher and frowned, though it was peculiar blend of anger and confusion, like she couldn’t figure out what she was looking at.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Put. Me. Down. _NOW_.”

“I asked if you wanted to spar and you said no, so you can’t get angry about it now! Or take it out on Deku!”

“Shut up!”

“No! _You_ be quiet and listen to _me_!”

Behind her, Deku looked like his soul was leaving his body while Kirishima edged between them, hands raised placatively.

“C’mon, you two, let’s just –“

“I told you that I wanted to see you and Deku get along better,” Uraraka went on heedlessly, “and you were and I was happy about it but now you’re being mean again just because you’re… you’re _jealous_!”

That sickly-weird rage flared up again and he aimed an explosion behind her with his free hand, propelling him backwards and breaking their contact. He hovered a few feet off the ground, struggling against the weightlessness and his all-consuming anger. “Fuck you!”

“You think I’m gonna let you beat up my friend like that?”

“Think you can stop me, Round-face!?”

“I just did, didn’t I?”

“I’m still standing!”

Kirishima finally stood between the pair and fixed Katsuki with an exasperated expression. “That’s enough. Seriously.”

Uraraka pouted, then released her quirk. Katsuki landed on his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets to stop any reflexive explosions. He was angry, but the anger had shifted inward now, because he’d somehow managed to upset her again and demonstrated that he hadn’t learned anything from their previous conversation. Not that he cared what she thought of him (he didn’t, absolutely not, not one bit, not even slightly) but he hated failing more than anything and right now he’d failed – even if he wasn’t sure at what, exactly.

As the unpleasant silence unrolled between them, Katsuki realized what was expected of him, and genuinely considered swallowing his tongue if it meant getting out of it. His eyes met Uraraka’s for a second, then he turned his back on them, and spat the word like it was a ball of thorns.

“Sorry!”

“Who are you talkin to?” Uraraka pressed.

Katsuki hunched his shoulders, gritted his teeth, and mumbled, “Both of you.”

Behind him, it sounded like Deku was having a heart attack and asthma attack at the same time.

“I forgive you!” Uraraka chirped brightly. “But don’t do it again.”

Katsuki grunted.

“You hear me, Katsuki?”

“YES I FUCKING HEARD YOU!”

“Okay, then. Sorry for troubling you Kirishima-kun!”

“Uh… It’s… no problem?”

“Catch ya later!”

Katsuki listened to their retreating footsteps, wondering whether he’d won or lost something, until Kirishima edged into the corner of his vision and said, “Damn, she’s a real firecracker when she wants to be.”

Katsuki started walking away, still chewing on his internal frustration. “Whatever.”

Kirishima kept pace with him and out the corner of his eye, Katsuki saw a leery grin creep across his face.

“Sooooo…” he said after a minute’s silence. “She calls you Katsuki, eh?”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, I ain’t judging. She’s hot.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Kirishima tsked and grinned again. “Nothin’. I guess we better start working on your communication skills, huh?”

Katsuki said nothing, and Kirishima wisely chose not to press the subject further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny, weeny baby steps for emotionally oblivious angy boi


	12. Warhead, But Make It OP

**Warhead, But Make It OP**

Even though Katsuki stubbornly refused to talk to her over the next few days, much less ask her to spar, he couldn’t shake that strange feeling; it was a constant companion now, alternatively flaring brightly into focus or pulsing in the background like a heartbeat, leaving him off balance and ill tempered. He didn’t understand it and didn’t want to understand it. It was weird and he hated it and he hated her a little bit for making him feel like this, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. Barely spoken to him in fact, aside from the occasional greeting or cheery nod.

He thought he was punishing her by depriving her of his company, but the longer he ignored her, the more confused he became. Clearly she was waiting for him to approach her, which was annoying in itself, because she should have been tripping over herself for a chance to spar with him. Even though Uraraka wasn’t the type to beg. But still.

Even Deku had been weird – weirder than his usual nerd self anyway – skirting around him all wide-eyed and flighty like he wasn’t sure how to act around him anymore. Like their scrap had revealed something about Katsuki that even Katsuki wasn’t aware of, which pissed him off more than he cared to admit.

And to top it all off, Kirishima and Racoon-eyes had been particularly grating the last few days. When they weren’t fixing him with those shit-eating grins, they were bringing up Uraraka for no reason, then not-so-discreetly elbowing each other like they were privy to some great conspiracy outside of Katsuki’s knowledge. He’d chased them out of his personal space more than once, but they kept returning like a pair of mosquitoes that fed on his irritation.

What a fucking week.

Katsuki leaned against his locker door and punched the code into the lock. He was going to spend the next seventeen-billion hours running laps around the track until exhaustion paved over that annoying feeling. Not the most interesting evening, but at least it was productive.

The student body swelled in the corridor following the end of day bell, filling the space with upbeat chatter. He thought he heard Round-face amidst the chaos but didn’t care enough to check. He opened his locker and exchanged his class books for sweats, then pulled on a black baseball cap and stuck an airpod in his ear. Kirishima appeared next to him, already dressed in his gym gear.

“Yo, you headin’ to Gamma?”

“No, the track.”

“Ah, nice, mind if I warm up with you?”

“Do whatever you want.”

“Lettin’ off steam?”

Katsuki eyed him narrowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kirishima went to answer but Racoon-eyes suddenly appeared wearing that grin Katsuki detested with every ounce of his being. Having zero interest in whatever she had to say, he shouldered his gym bag and made to leave.

“Gosh, Chako-chan is such a boy-magnet nowadays, huh?”

Katsuki froze, hand against his half-closed locker door.

Kirishima leaned a shoulder against the locker and peered at Racoon-eyes with a silky smile. “Uraraka? Dunno, haven’t noticed. She’s cute though.”

“Cuter than me?”

“Naw, no one’s cuter than you.”

“Heh heh. Anyway, I’m watching from a distance to see how this goes down.”

“Watch what go down?”

Racoon-eyes pointed over Bakugo’s shoulder, grin inching wider. “One of the boys from the Business class is totally trying to make a move on her, something about going out for milkshake, I dunno, but she’s –“

Katsuki slammed shut his locker door with an ear-shattering crash. His head snapped around to scan the corridor and sure enough, one of those prissy nobodies from the slacker-course had Uraraka backed against her locker with two more losers standing right behind him like they were trying to _corner_ her –

With that sickly feeling ballooning in his chest and his blood roaring in his ears, he crashed through the crowd of students, tiny explosions crackling involuntarily to his fingertips. Neither the Business students or Uraraka noticed until he wedged himself between them, his back to Uraraka, and fixed the extra with a glower that could have floored even All Might.

The boy trailed off mid-sentence, blinking in surprise, mouth hanging open. Katsuki didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. It took only a split second before the extra’s expression bled into a look of utter terror that pleased Katsuki more than he cared to admit. All three of the boys scrambled backward – one them even squeaked – and the other tripped over his own feet. The loser who’d been hitting on Uraraka held up his hands as if to physically ward off Katsuki’s glare.

“Suh-sorry I duh-don’t… I mean, I didn’t…uh…”

“Get lost,” Katsuki snarled.

And they did. Very quickly. Literally _running_ like the flames of hell was at their heels. Katsuki smirked.

“What the heck do you think you’re doing?”

He turned and stared down at Uraraka. In his haste and the crowded confines of the corridor, he’d accidentally backed her against the locker so now there was hardly an inch between them. She blinked up at him wearing a small, confused frown, but didn’t push him away. Being right up in her personal space, albeit not for the first time, felt a lot weirder than it should have, and again he felt that feeling swell inside him until he thought he might choke on it.

“What?” she said.

He’d been stupid to ignore her for so long, he suddenly realized. Because she was strong and a good hero and of course others would try to snap her up first. Which wasn’t acceptable, because she deserved the best, and he was the best, and he’d be damned if he’d lose that opportunity just because everyone on the entire planet was hell bent on annoying the fuck out of him this week, including but not limited to the Business class, apparently.

He still wasn’t sure _why_ it annoyed him so much. But whatever.

“Come running with me,” he said.

“Oh.” Her brows settled into a thoughtful look. “Um, well, I was gonna go with Mina to the library but –“

“Oh, don’t mind me!” Racoon-eyes blurted from somewhere to his left. She had her arm threaded through Kirishima’s and they both looked exceptionally pleased with themselves. “You two go ahead. Kiri and I are gonna spar anyways.”

Uraraka stared narrowly at Racoon-eyes, perhaps as irked as Katsuki was by their shit-eating grins, but then she sighed and lightly pushed him out of her personal space. “Fiiine. Lemme change my clothes first. I’ll meet you there.” Mumbling, she added, “Don’t know why you have to make a big scene every time you want something.”

“ _I didn’t make a scene!”_ he yelled, then rammed the other airpod into his ear and stomped away.

Very graciously ignoring Kirishima and Mina giggling like a pair of idiots, he headed straight for the track. Knowing he didn’t have to keep up his self-imposed farce of not giving a shit made him feel slightly better. It’d been kinda dumb honestly. Which wasn’t like him. But then again, he hadn’t been feeling like himself since the exam, and he couldn’t credit it to the flu anymore. Which must’ve meant it was _her_ fault. Somehow. Maybe.

He just needed to focus on Warhead. At least that made sense.

As Katsuki finished stretching his limbs at the track’s start line, Uraraka arrived dressed in a cropped shirt and running joggers, her hair swept into a knot at the top of her head.

“Aren’t you gonna be cold?” he asked as she approached.

“Keeping up with you? Don’t think so.” She smirked as she stretched her right hamstring. “Unless you’re gonna go easy on me today.”

Katsuki snorted, then started jogging away from her around the track.

“H-hey! Hold up, I haven’t stretched yet!”

“Not my problem,” he called smugly over his shoulder. “You better catch up!”

“Cheater!”

He jogged the lap faster than he normally would just to show her up, and she was ready to join him by the time he reached the starting point again. She waited until he passed her then matched his pace, more or less, falling perhaps one step behind him.

“Can’t keep up?” he mocked without looking back.

“I thought you didn’t like me walking side by side with you.”

He mulled this over. Usually he would mind, but… “I’ll let you, if you can keep up.” And then he picked up his pace.

Her footfalls retreated for a second, then she appeared out the corner of his eye at his side, barely breaking a sweat. He went faster still, and faster, now hitting a run rather than a jog, but he couldn’t shake her, and decided to maintain the pace until she inevitably wore out and fell behind.

For the next twenty minutes or so they ran shoulder to shoulder to the symphony of their combined breathing and the pounding of sneakers against the tarmac. Katsuki refused to slow his pace and even though Uraraka was considerably more puffed out, she didn’t drop behind for even a second. He was pretty sure they would’ve kept running like that in endless circles until one of them (her, obviously) dropped dead from sheer exhaustion, but that wouldn’t do; he had to beat her.

As they rounded the track and hit the stretch to the starting point, Katsuki took off at a sprint, funneling the last of his endurance into his legs for the final push. Round-face yelled in irritation, but he quickly left her behind, and practically fell headfirst over the finish line with a triumphant roar. She appeared a few seconds later, then fell dramatically onto her back with her arms splayed, red-faced and panting.

“Cheat,” she accused breathlessly.

Doubled over with his hands against his knees, Katsuki smirked around his heavy breathing. “Your reaction times are shit.”

“Yeah, well. I won’t be caught out next time.”

 _Next time_?

“Whatever.”

“Hey, I had an idea while we were running,” she said, climbing shakily to her feet.

“Wow, thinking _and_ running. Surprised your brain didn’t short circuit.”

“Shush. I was thinking we could use my quirk to maintain your speed. Like a… a rocket booster, or something.”

He straightened and crossed his arms. “By makin’ me weightless?”

“Theoretically, you’d be able to travel at a constant speed indefinitely until you hit another mass or I drop you, but you’ll have to already be moving and in the air, otherwise you’ll just float. When you use your quirk now, you have to stop and start as your explosions peter out and gravity pulls you down. With my quirk, you shouldn’t need to keep using your explosions to propel you forward.” She stared thoughtfully into the distance. “Keep in mind you’re not weightless though; I’ve just cancelled the effect of gravity on you. You still have mass, so if you were to hit something at that speed before I release my quirk, or if you fail to alter your trajectory with another explosion, you will prroooobably be crushed on impact. So we shouldn’t use it carelessly.”

Katsuki was barely listening to her warning as a feral smirk inched wider over his face. It sounded a lot like Warhead, except this time the explosion would already be in motion before she activated her quirk. “Let’s do it!”

Uraraka eyed the look on his face cautiously, then clenched her hands in front of her chest. “Okay! I’ll stand here. It’s up to you to reach your fastest speed as you pass me so I can hit you at just the right moment.”

“I know that!” Katsuki snapped, then jogged to the end of the track where it curved onto the straight. He flexed his fingers and jumped up and down a few times, warming up his limbs again, and felt savage excitement flush through him. If this worked, it could be a game changer.

At the track’s starting point, Uraraka gave him a thumbs up. He took up a starting position, then shot forward into a sprint. When he hit his top speed a few feet from Uraraka, he used his momentum to leap forward, hands outstretched behind him, then channeled all the sweat built up from their earlier run into a gargantuan explosion that shot him forward like a torpedo. Uraraka barely managed to catch him as he flew past, slapping his shoulder, and suddenly he was hurtling unimpeded over the track.

He hooted in half-terror and half-excitement as the explosions spluttered out on his palms but he carried on going at a frightening speed, the ground a blur and the wind whistling in his ears. It was a crazy feeling having no resistance, no weight, but still hurtling along a single trajectory – it was ten times faster than he’d predicted and his brain could barely keep up with the implications –

It took exactly 1.2 seconds for him to clear the track and suddenly the equipment shed perched against UA’s walls was startlingly close; neither he nor Uraraka could react in time to avoid the collision, and both of them panicked. Katsuki threw out his hands and released an explosion to slow his advance at the same time Uraraka released her quirk. As a result, he wasn’t crushed on impact, but he did smash straight through the front of the shed into the wall. He released his quirk at the same time and the shed exploded, sending out a spray of footballs and bats and shotputs and burning shards of wood across the field.

Katsuki crumpled into a dazed heap amid burning rubble, blinking dust out of his eyes and hearing nothing for a moment but a high-pitched ringing in his ears. A second later Uraraka leapt through the dust and pulled him out of the rubble.

“Oh my god, Katsuki, are you okay, oh no, oh no, that was my fault it was a stupid idea, _stupid_ , I could’ve gotten you killed, are you hurt, oh my god you’re bleeding, that’s blood, actual blood, Katsuki oh my god –“

“That,” Katsuki said slowly, “was… fucking AWESOME!” He gripped her by her arms and lifted her off the ground, a fierce grin tearing across his face. “ _WE’RE GONNA BE FUCKING UNSTOPPABLE!”_

“You could’ve died!” she wailed.

He dropped her to the ground and planted his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t you get it? Once we get the timing right, nobody could stop that. Nobody could get away from that! It’s raw fucking power, Cheeks! Can you imagine how much faster it would’ve been if I’d been wearin’ my gauntlets?”

Uraraka paled, looking both miserable and apprehensive. “You could get seriously hurt if I mess up my release.”

“You won’t mess up.”

“I just did!”

“We both did, ‘cause we didn’t realize how fucking awesome it’d be.”

“But the shed –“

“Who fucking cares about the stupid shed when we –“

“ _I_ care about the shed,” a voice said nearby.

The pair slowly turned to face Aizawa, who peered at them from a graveyard of ruined sports gear and smoldering wood. Katsuki snatched his hands off Uraraka’s shoulders while Aizawa’s gaze fixed first on her, then on Katsuki.

“We had this conversation, Bakugou. I don’t like to repeat myself.”

“I know that! You don’t - ” Katsuki started, but stopped when Uraraka placed a hand on his arm.

“It’s my fault for suggesting it,” she said. “He didn’t mean to blow up the shed. I didn’t release my quirk in time because it was a lot faster than I thought, so he tried to slow himself with explosions and um…” She stared around at the ruined shed and deflated. “Sorry…”

There was a drawn-out pause, then she elbowed Katsuki in the ribs. He rolled his eyes. “Sorry.”

Aizawa pinged a flat look between them, entirely unamused. “The finance board is not going to be happy when I report another case of property damage on your behalf, Bakugou. You’re old enough to know better. And Uraraka, you should know better than to encourage him.”

Katsuki opened his mouth to argue but Uraraka squeezed his arm again and he begrudgingly swallowed his retort.

“However,” Aizawa went on, “for the sake of your training I will allow you to continue to develop your quirk combination, but only inside the gyms. If I catch so much as a singed leaf outside of the gym, I will personally oversee your joint expulsion. Understand?”

Uraraka swallowed loudly, then bowed and squeaked, “Yes, Aizawa-sensei!”

Katsuki huffed and said nothing, but felt secretly pleased. Despite the damage done, even Aizawa couldn’t deny the potential behind their partnership, which was as good as approval in Katsuki’s books.

“Also,” Aizawa added, “you’re going to clean this up and build a new shed over the weekend. No excuses. I want it perfect by Monday.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to build a shed!?” Katsuki snapped.

“I can do it!” Uraraka bleated unexpectedly beside him. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, Aizawa-sensei. Leave it to us!”

“I will,” Aizawa deadpanned. “I’ll have the tools and supplies dropped off here. If it isn’t built to an acceptable standard, you’ll only wish I’d expelled you here and now.”

He left the pair to contemplate the mess they’d made, and Katsuki huffed irritably. Great. Another weekend he’d have to spend with her. What a punishment.

He side-eyed Uraraka and noted her devastated expression, big watery eyes and pouty lips, and bopped her on the side of the head. “It ain’t that bad, Round-face. It was only a shed.”

“Our quirks,” she said slowly. “They’re dangerous. If we don’t get it right, we could end up seriously hurting someone. Maybe even killing them. This could’ve been the school, or someone’s home.”

Katsuki said nothing. He’d lost count of how many times he’d had this talk with superiors, like he didn’t know his quirk was dangerous and the responsibility that came with wielding it.

“So,” Uraraka continued, eyes sliding to his, “we gotta trust each other and work together as equals. You can’t try to make it stronger or faster without communicating that to me first. I trust you, but you gotta trust me too. Right?”

He held her gaze, feeling uncomfortable, then shoved his hands in his pockets and tsked. “Of course I trust you.”

Her expression bled into a smile and she nodded. “Good. We’ll definitely get it right next time.”

 _Next time._ “’Course we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these lovebirds, out here destroying school property and edging towards emotional maturity. They grow up so fast *tear*


	13. Two Idiots Build a Shed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm now on Twitter! I only made my account a few days ago (so don't judge me by my total lack of tweets). I'll be shamelessly retweeting BNHA and Haikyuu stuff while leaving insights into my chapters and snippets (?spoilers) of upcoming chapters. I'm @elanadrex

**Two Idiots Build A Shed**

Katsuki stood over the ambiguous pile of work tools and wooden panels with his hood pulled up, trying very hard not to look like he was sulking.

“Why can’t they just buy a pre-built shed?” he snapped at Uraraka. “This is a waste of our fucking time. I could be studyin’ or training. Also the weather’s shit and I’m fucking cold.”

“Oh my gosh, will you stop, already? I can’t stand your sulking.”

_“I’m not sulking!”_

“Then stop complaining. It’s only a shed; anyone could put this together. It’s baby stuff.”

“Oh yeah? What are you, an expert shed builder or something?”

“I help my parents with their construction company,” she said, then dropped to her knees and began sorting the tools into piles. “The panels are all premade anyway; we just gotta fix ‘em together. You didn’t destroy the foundation, so that’s good. The foundation is the trickiest part.”

“ _We_ didn’t destroy the foundation,” he reminded her spikily. “This is _our_ fault, not my fault.”

He sensed rather than saw her rolling her eyes. “Yes, Katsuki, you don’t need to keep reminding me. I’m sure Aizawa-sensei considers this a team building exercise anyway, so try not to blow anything up.”

“I’m not gonna blow anything up!” he raged, clamping down the urge to blow something up just to spite her. “It’s gonna be the best fucking shed UA has ever seen and you fucking know it.”

She stood up, wiping her hands on the back of her tatty, ripped jeans, and smiled. “Oh, I know! The question is whether I can get through a day without murdering you in the process. I could totally hide your body in the foundations before I build over it.”

“I swear to god I’ll –“

She laughed and batted his chest. “I’m kiddin’, doofus.”

He absently ran a hand over his chest as she turned away. They’d spent the better half of Saturday morning dismantling what remained of the old shed, disposing of it into a hired skip, and salvaging the sports equipment, so now the foundations were clear to be built on again.

Uraraka surveyed the site with her hands on her hips. “The floor wasn’t hit badly so I don’t think we need to replace it, thank goodness. Lemme attach the door to the front panel real quick.”

Katsuki helped her maneuver everything into place then stood beside her with his hands in his pockets, feeling all kinds of useless as she screwed hinges into place and attached the door in record time. He was, despite himself, quietly impressed, albeit unsurprised; she had a knack for problem solving and could articulate fundamental and complex thought processes that most people would miss. These traits of hers were overlooked because she was too quick to let others take the spotlight, and because she was cute and pretty.

He caught that thought with a frown, then hurriedly tucked it away as she stood up and declared the front panel ready for assembly.

“Help me lift the front gable into place.”

“The what?”

“What the door’s attached to.” She shifted to the other side of a panel and wedged her fingers under it, then jerked her head to his end, indicating he should do the same.

He baulked at being told what to do but stiffly relented, because she clearly knew what she was doing, more than he did, at any rate. So he gripped the panel and bent his knees, bracing himself for the weight, then yanked it up and –

The weightless panel snapped up, caught his chin, flipped over and hit Uraraka on the head, then spiraled into the sky.

“Fuck!” he yelled, pressing the back of his hand to his chin. “For fuck’s sake, Compass-tits, tell me before you make something weightless!”

Uraraka crouched on the floor and rubbed her head, wincing at him. “Well obviously I was gonna make it weightless!”

_“How is that obvious?”_

“Because we’re lifting something heavy and my quirk is zero gravity!”

“It’s not even heavy!”

“I’m sorry, okay!? Look, stand back, I’m droppin’ it.”

“Wait – it’ll break if it hits the – oh fuck it.”

Katsuki jumped forward as the panel dropped out of the sky and awkwardly caught its edge with one hand. He kept it balanced above his head until Uraraka made it weightless again, then he carried it to the shed’s foundations. With Uraraka’s help, he guided it into the ridge in the floor, then together they retrieved the side panel (it’s weight kept intact, because it seriously wasn’t heavy and Katsuki didn’t fancy almost having his teeth nearly knocked out again) and slotted that in too.

“Hold them still while I nail them in place,” Uraraka said. “They can’t shift at all, okay?”

Katsuki grumbled as he used his weight to support both the panels. “How come you get to do the fun part?”

“’Cause I know what I’m doin’,” she replied tartly, then stopped talking as she began nailing the panels in place from the inside with a nailgun. Which was probably for best as she was beginning to get on Katsuki’s nerves.

Once she was done, they positioned the rear gable, then the final side, and she disappeared to nail in the walls while he held them in place. His gaze trailed to the grey clouds scudding overhead, whipped by a brisk wind, and he let go of the panel for a second to pull his hood lower over his head. Fuck, it was cold.

“Oi, hurry it up, Round-face. I’m freezing my balls off.”

“Sorry!” she said, inexplicably appearing to his right. “Here, hold still.” She reached up to touch to his face, and he instinctively flinched back.

“What are you –“

“Don’t let go of the panels!” she said crossly, then showed him the Band-Aid stretched between her fingers. “You’re bleeding.”

“What? Where?”

“On your chin. From the panel hitting you. Here, let me –“

“God – Uraraka – _stop_ – I can put a fucking band-aid on myself I don’t need you –“

“Will you just keep still!? Gosh.” She stuck the band aid under his chin none too gently, then leapt back like she was worried he might spontaneously combust from the contact. “I kinda suspected there’d be at last one injury, so brought a pack of band-aids. Just in case.”

“You suspected?” he repeated. “I’m not _that_ bad.”

“Accidents happen,” she said dismissively, and he suddenly remembered how he burned her hand during the orienteering exam. A surge of guilt swept through him and must have shown on his face, because she fixed him with a curious look and opened her mouth to speak.

“HEY SLACKERS! HOW’S THE LOVE NEST COMIN’ ALONG?”

Katsuki snapped his gaze over his shoulder and spotted his self-proclaimed ‘Baku-squad’ on the opposite side of the track. They were dressed for a workout on their way to the gym, and Katsuki spotted their leery smirks even from this distance.

“BETTER GET A MOVE ON BEFORE KAACHAN BLOWS THAT ONE UP TOO!” Kaminari yelled, followed by Sero wolf-whistling.

“LESS FLIRTING, MORE BUILDING!” Kirishima added.

Katsuki let go of the panels and lunged towards them, explosions crackling on his palms and no less than ten expletives snapping off his tongue, but Uraraka caught the back of his hoodie with one hand while holding up the panels with her other and jerked him back.

“Kat, the _walls_ ,” she implored.

As the Baku-squad waved and jeered, Katsuki gave them the finger then sharply turned back to reclaim his position, bustling Uraraka aside. “Fucking idiots.”

He was surprised to find her somewhat pink cheeked, but she hurriedly averted her gaze before gathering her dropped tools and disappearing around the side of the shed. He tsked and made a mental note to string Kirishima up by his entrails later. What were they fucking talking about anyway? It wasn’t like he wanted to spend his whole Saturday building the dumb shed. The teachers made him do it.

And it wasn’t like he was enjoying spending time with Uraraka.

He kept a firm grip on the panels while she nailed them in place, and ten minutes later she hooted cheerfully.

“That’s the four walls done! All that’s left to do is the roof. Told ya it’d be a cake walk!”

“Yeah, yeah.” It wasn’t like he’d done much. “At least let me help with the roof. Don’t want you takin’ all the credit.”

Her voice drifted from above and when he looked up, he found her peering at him over the erected walls, having activated her quirk. “I mean, the roof is kinda my territory, right? But you can attach the fascia if you want.”

He didn’t know what that was but shrugged in agreement. “Let’s just get this over with. I got better things to do with my time than hang around you.”

There was a flash of hurt in her eyes that she poorly tried to conceal behind a watery smile, and that expression flushed icy water all the way to his toes.

_Fuck._

_Tell her you didn’t mean it. Tell her you didn’t mean it. Tell her you didn’t –_

A fat drop of rain splattered against his cheek just as he went to open his mouth, and the pair of them stared dumbly at the thick, grey clouds overhead. Two seconds later, the sky opened like it wanted to unleash its own retribution on Katsuki’s harsh words and shook free its wrath in the form of torrential rain. Uraraka shrieked and hurriedly deactivated her quirk, disappearing out of sight.

“Fuck’s sake,” Katsuki muttered, then grabbed one of the roof panels and held it over his head before darting through the door of the half-built shed. “C’mere, Round-face.”

She hopped under his makeshift cover without complaint, drenched already, and hunkered against him with her hands clamped in front of her chest. She chuckled humorlessly. “Typical.”

Katsuki grunted and stared out the empty window frames at the track washed in muted hues, assaulted by the downpour.

“I swear, we have the worst luck when we work together. If one of us isn’t getting sick or falling over cliffs or into rivers, we’re getting stuck in the rain while we’re trying to rebuild a shed we accidentally destroyed.”

He couldn’t disagree. Maybe the gods were trying to tell them something.

The minutes ticked by in silence until Uraraka shifted beside him, drawing his attention, and suddenly he was very aware of how close they were standing. How warm she was, how she was shivering, how there were tiny goosebumps across her arms, how the rain dripped off the ends of her hair and trailed down her neck, pooling in the dip between her delicate collarbones.

And how her white t-shirt had gone very, very see-through to reveal a black bra covered in pink paw-prints –

He shifted his gaze away and swallowed loudly. “Hold this for a second,” he said.

“Huh?”

“The panel.”

“Oh, um. Sure. Your arms gettin’ tired? I can make it weightless, if you want?”

He didn’t reply, and when she took the panel (lowering it to an awkward height so he had to duck down) he shrugged out of his hoodie and dropped it over her head.

“A-ah, Kat, what are you –“

“Don’t argue. Just put it on.”

She wrestled one-handed with the garment until Katsuki reclaimed the panel, lifting it higher, then she tore it off her face and stared up at him, appalled. “B-but you’re only wearing a t-shirt!”

“So are you.”

“I can’t take this from you when you’ve got nothing to -“

“Damn, woman, you’d think you came out of the womb arguing!”

“It’s just I –“

“I can get changed when it stops raining, it’s not a big fucking deal.”

“But it’s so cold, honestly, I can wait –“

“Uraraka, I can _literally see your tits!”_ he hollered.

Her cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of magenta, mouth crinkling into an unhappy line, and after a very uncomfortable silence, she pulled his hoodie over her head. The hem dropped past her thighs and the sleeves obscured her hands, but she didn’t seem to mind as she pulled up the hood and hugged herself. He swore she even inhaled like she was smelling it, but that would be weird.

Eventually, she broke the awkward silence by muttering, “It’s just my bra.”

He flinched, summoning anger to cover his embarrassment, and couldn’t quite control his volume as he snapped, “I know that! I don’t wanna see your stupid bra, either! Bring a fuckin’ jacket next time you go outside on a shitty day, dumbass!”

He expected her to go quiet, but instead she reached up and clapped her sleeve-covered hands over his cheeks, squishing them together.

“Don’t. Call. Me. Names!”

He jerked out of her handhold, but she stayed close to him, not wanting to get caught in the rain again. “Fine!” he barked. “But you’re not keepin’ the hoodie.”

“I-I wasn’t gonna!” she said, though there was a weird look on her face like maybe she’d been considering it.

And to be fair, seeing her in his clothes gave him that weird feeling. The one he couldn’t pinpoint. Almost like… like it pleased him to see it. Which couldn’t be right. So it was best he didn’t think on it at all.

He shivered as a drop of rain trickled down the back of his t-shirt, and she cocked her head at him, looking miserable.

“I’m not cold,” he told her, even though he was. But he didn’t want her to give up the hoodie. Not just because of the whole bra thing, but because he didn’t want her getting cold.

She shifted her gaze to the track beyond the window, chewing on her lip like she was debating something, then suddenly she wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her cheek against his chest.

Hugging him.

A billion conflicting emotions wrestled for dominance inside his brain and it took him way longer than usual to articulate anything close to anger.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

“Gettin’ you warm,” she replied quietly. “I did it during the exam, remember?”

“Yes, I fucking remember you crawling into my sleeping bag while I was unconscious, you pervert.”

“You were gonna get hypothermia otherwise!”

“Because you dropped me in the river!”

“You stole my phone and jumped over a cliff!”

He huffed. Fine. She had him there. And it wasn’t like she felt terrible. She was warm. Her hair smelt nice. Of coconut and rain. And maybe he was warming her up too, so there was that. And it wasn’t the worse position to be in, he supposed. It was just typical he kept getting into in these weird situations with her, of all people. Not that he’d want to be in this situation with anyone else. Because that would be weird. Which probably meant that he -

“Your heart’s beatin’ fast,” she whispered.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so listened to the rain hammer against the half-built shed, basking in her warmth and the feeling that spread through his chest like fire across dry heathland.

* * *

The downpour was powerful but short and came to a sudden end ten minutes later, peeling back to reveal a blue sky. Nearby, a pair of swallows skirted low over the track, catching insects that were pinned to the grass by the weight of water.

Arms aching, Katsuki lowered the panel and propped it against the wall, then peered down at the top of Uraraka’s head. She still had her arms clamped around his torso and he could feel her deep, even breaths rise and fall in time with his. He thought he should feel angrier about her being latched to him like barnacle, but the rain had somehow dampened his temper too, and he realized he didn’t care at all.

“Rain’s stopped,” he stated, wedging his hands in his pockets.

“Hnn.” She didn’t move.

“…You cold or something?”

“Mmn.”

“Uraraka?”

No response.

He shifted, growing uncomfortable. “You might need to…You know…” But she still didn’t move, so he grasped her elbows and gently pushed her away. She resisted very briefly, her hands clenching behind his back, but eventually she relented and blinked blearily up at him.

“I swear I almost fell asleep standin’ up,” she said around yawn, then shook herself and patted her cheeks. “I’m awake! Shall we get back to work?”

Her body warmth faded, and he shivered. “I guess.”

She skipped out the shed and he heard her rummaging through the tools. “Are you still cold?”

“Naw,” he said, following her out. “Let’s just get this done.” She glanced at him, mildly upset, so he clarified, “So I can train. Not because of you. I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”

She paused, then smiled brightly. “That’s good, ‘cause I like hanging out with you. Even if weird stuff seems to happen when we’re together.”

“Rain isn’t weird.”

“Ya know what I mean.” She activated her quirk and floated above the walls, then hooked her leg through the glass-less window to anchor herself to the spot. “Anyways, let’s start on the rafters. Pass me the support beam by your left foot, would ya?”

“Don’t you wanna get changed first?” he asked while lifting it up to her. Her hair was frizzy from the rain and her cheeks scrubbed pink by the cold. Also it was weird seeing her swamped in his hoodie. Even if orange was a good color on her.

“Naw, I’ll warm up. I’ll do half the rafters and you can do the other half, okay?”

“As if I’d let you take all the credit.”

“C’mere then. I’ll show you how to do it.”

He hoisted himself in front of her, legs straddling the walls, and for the next few hours they worked together to install the ridgeboard, rafters and fascia. By the time it hit 4pm their moods markedly soured due to hunger, and both of them regretted not eating lunch. Regardless, their building had fallen into a harmonious motion that was rare for him, so they soldiered on in silence.

It was weird, when he thought about it. They worked well together, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information besides use her to amplify his quirk. But even that didn’t feel right. Like something was missing.

Katsuki screwed the last metal roof panel in place then wiped sweat off his brow with his forearm. She’d been right about warming up fast; building was harder work than he’d first thought. Thank fuck he wouldn’t be building anymore sheds in the immediate future.

“Woo, we did it!” Uraraka exclaimed beside him, then slid off the shed roof. He followed her and they stood side by side, casting a critical eye over their finished work before she slapped him on the back. “Pretty good teamwork, I’d say! It’s a sharp build.”

“Looks like a shed,” Katsuki commented flatly.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that. Aren’t you even a little bit proud?”

“It’s the best damn shed I’ve ever seen, obviously. ‘Cause we built it. What’s there to be surprised about?”

She blinked at him, then grinned widely. “You’re right. Oh, but I gotta add one last thing. Where’s that…” She crouched down and rummaged through the toolbox. “Ah, here it is! I have to do this. It’s tradition in the Uraraka household, ya know.”

She hopped through the shed door, leaving him outside, and he huffed in annoyance. “C’mon, Round-face, quit dickin’ around; I’m fucking starving.”

“You can go, if ya want!” she called.

He half considered it – his tolerance for having someone else in his personal space was long exhausted – but curiosity got the better of him and he poked his head into the shed. Uraraka was floating by the top corner of the roof, her ankles crossed and back pressed awkwardly against the rafters. She was scratching something into the wood with a pen knife.

“You better not be doin’ what I think you’re doing,” he said moodily.

She dropped her quirk, landing on the floor, and he squinted grumpily at the carving in the wood.

**_BK_**

**_+_ **

**_UO._ **

“What?” she said, catching his expression. “It’s like a potter’s mark! Dad and I do it every time we finish a project together. I mean, we usually write our initials in the wet concrete of the foundations, but this’ll have to do. No one’ll see it anyways ‘cause it’s around the back of the rafters. It’ll be our secret!”

Seeing their initials together like that sent the sickly-sweet feeling rushing through him again. Why did she have to make things weird? “You might as well have drawn a fucking heart around it, you idiot.”

“Should I?” she asked innocently, brandishing the pen knife again. “I used to do that with my mom and dad’s initials but –“

“Christ, I’m fucking kidding. I swear to god you _want_ people to get the wrong idea, sometimes.”

“What idea?”

Gods, she wasn’t _that_ dense, surely? “Whatever. I’m gettin’ food.”

“Would you be embarrassed if people thought that about us?”

Her question was mumbled so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d heard her properly, so he stopped in the doorway and threw a narrow look over his shoulder. “What did you say?”

She swallowed, staring at the ground, then shook her head and smiled. “N-nothing! Doesn’t matter. Can I ask you for one last favor though?”

“For fuck’s sake, _what_?”

She cajoled him out the shed, then spread out her arms. “Let’s get a picture in front of the shed together.”

“No fucking way.”

“Wha-? Why?”

“That’s lame.”

“Katsuki!”

“No.”

Her face settled into petulant resignation. “Tch, fine. But at least take one of me so I can send it to my dad. Please?”

Grumbling, Katsuki pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Whatever will shut you up.”

“Oh, ah, you can use mine?”

“My camera’s better. I’ll send it to you later.”

She nodded in agreement, then did some cutesy peace-sign pose that made her look all sorts of dumb, with her stupid grin, frizzy hair and too-big-hoodie.

 _His_ hoodie, he reminded himself. Because he definitely wasn’t going to let her keep it like a sappy pushover.

He took the photo then pocketed his phone. “Happy now?”

“Yep!” She skipped past him, pleased as he’d ever seen her. “Let’s go eat!”

“I’m not gonna eat with you!” he snapped, hanging back, but she continued heedlessly across the track, probably thinking of food.

He glanced over his shoulder at the finished shed and thought of their initials carved into the rafters. This time he let that warm feeling settle in his chest, tired of fighting it off (whatever the hell it was) then followed her across the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is otherwise known as 'idiot fanfiction writer has to watch tutorials on how to build a shed then include realistic details about said shed building without bogging down the narrative with technicalities that nobody cares about'. I'm now very behind on writing this fic but I'm still hoping to make my Sunday schedules. Also you'll be pleased to know that the smut starts next chapter eeeeep! Hope you enjoyed the copious amount of fluff in this one!


	14. Hand Job In the Lobby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut starts here, folks. I know it's what you've all been secretly waiting for. And not so secretly lol. This is a good point to start Part Three, and I may reintroduce chapters from Uraraka's POV as I think it'd be nice to see her take on their budding relationship.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support, as usual. And as mentioned before, you can find me and my kacchako fanart on twitter @elanadrex

**PART THREE**

* * *

**Hand Job in the Common Room**

It was too early for dinner and too late for lunch, but Katsuki was so hungry he didn’t give a single fuck and went straight to the kitchen, damp clothes and all, to make his lunch/dinner before he levelled half of UA with a hunger-induced explosion. Also, cooking at this in-between time meant he had the communal kitchen to himself, which was nice.

He’d never considered himself particularly introverted until moving into the UA dorms, where his personal space was invaded all hours of the day by a dozen brazen personalities. Even Kirishima made a gargantuan effort to drag him to social events that were, in his opinion, dumb and a waste of precious energy, like getting ice cream at the mall or movie night, when all Katsuki wanted to do was sleep. He would’ve spent most weekends at home with his mom if he didn’t need to train.

His phone buzzed, pulling his attention away from chopping vegetables, and he wiped his hands on his pants before thumbing it open. Speak of the devil: it was his mom, asking how he was. He shot back a quick ‘fine’ and was about to close the screen when he remembered the photo of Uraraka. He tapped the gallery icon, found the photo, then sent it to her via messenger.

Job done, he went to delete the photo, but found himself hesitating. This was the first time he’d built something rather than destroying it - even if he’d destroyed the shed to begin with - but whatever. It still felt like an accomplishment. A testament that he could do good if he put his mind to it.

His hesitation was nothing to do with how dumb Uraraka looked in the photo, wearing his hoodie and a big, dizzy grin.

He thought of their initials carved in the rafters, then closed his screen without deleting the photo.

His peace in the communal area was short-lived, as it so often was considering he shared a dorm with nineteen other students, though he wasn’t completely annoyed to find it was Uraraka interrupting the peace this time. She had her phone tucked between her ear and shoulder and was carrying a pile of textbooks, which she dumped onto one of the tables before heading to the kitchen.

He turned away before they could make eye contact, then continued chopping vegetables for his curry. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Not that she could speak to him anyway, considering she was on the phone to someone.

“- it was just a simple ridgeboard and rafters,” she was saying. “There weren’t any gussets!... I couldn’t, they’d given us pre-cut panels… I mean, yeah but we didn’t have the right cutter for it, or the wood… I know, I know. But it turned out so good! Did you get my photo? Was the front fascia okay? I was worried it looked wonky. Ah good – wait, hang on, I’m gonna put you on speaker phone while I make my dinner. Two seconds.”

Uraraka elbowed Katsuki in the ribs, almost making him lose a finger while he chopped an onion, and he threw a scowl over his shoulder. “What?”

“Do you mind?” she whispered, gesturing to her phone. “It’s just my dad.”

He shrugged, then pushed past her so he could get the tofu from the fridge.

She took that as a yes and suddenly Katsuki could hear Uraraka’s father down the line.

“- make it by yourself, honey?”

“My dinner?”

“No, the shed. You know I don’t like you taking on construction projects by yourself in case you get hurt. Remember the incident with the nail gun where you –“

“Ye _eeess_ , you don’t need to keep bringin’ it up! It was like, ten years ago.”

“I’m just saying, Tealeaf.”

Katsuki snorted into the fridge. _Tealeaf._

“I didn’t do it alone, anyway. Kat – Uh, Bakugou-kun helped me. You know, ‘cause we both destroyed the shed in the first place.”

“Is that the boy who beat you up at the Sports Festival?”

Katsuki froze with his hand on the tofu, shoulders shooting up around his ears. Right. Of course her parents would know him as the guy who was booed on national television for beating their only daughter into unconsciousness. For fuck’s sake.

Uraraka laughed two-pitches too loudly, fumbling with a glass while she made a grab for her phone like she wanted to turn off loudspeaker. “Ha ha yeah, h-him, but it’s not –“

A female voice – presumably Uraraka’s mother – pitched in, “Is that the same boy you talked about non-stop for a month?”

This time Uraraka did drop the glass but Katsuki caught it before it could smash on the floor. Avoiding her eye, he passed it back to her, and in her panicked state she made it weightless and it floated off to the ceiling.

“Yeah, I think that’s the boy,” her father continued. “Isn’t he the reason you took the internship with Gunhead?”

“’To get strong like him’, I think you said,” her mother added. “He is a very handsome young man.”

“M-mom!”

“You’re too young for a boyfriend,” her father added sternly. “I’m serious, you need to focus on your studies and –“

“D-dad s-stop it’s – it’s –“ Uraraka finally managed to grab her phone and turn off the loudspeaker. She pressed the phone to her ear and carried on babbling. “I know… _I know!_ You don’t have to keep sayin’ it!... Mom, _please_.”

Katsuki very valiantly pretended to be invisible while fighting off the blush creeping up his collar. Uraraka’s own blush was raising the room’s temperature by at least ten degrees and the glass was still stuck to the ceiling like a forgotten Christmas decoration. The whole situation was unbearably awkward, but he didn’t want to retreat from the kitchen because he wasn’t a coward and he was damn well here first.

“Anyway,” Uraraka said eventually, “can I come home next weekend?”

A pause.

“Oh… I thought you didn’t work Sundays anymore?... Well, I’m glad you got that contract. I can come over to clean and meal prep if you’re gonna be out?... It’s no problem, I don’t mind, even if I don’t get to see you. I mean, I do have to study but… Okay… Another weekend, then. That’s fine! Totally fine!”

Out the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulders slump, but she kept her tone light, betraying nothing of her obvious disappointment.

“Oh, I’m makin’ dinner. No, the cafeteria’s closed on weekends. Yeah, I know I stayed last minute but I’ve still got leftovers. No, no, you don’t need to send me anything! I’ve got loads, I swear! Please don’t worry, I’m fine, honestly! Make sure you eat after your shift, okay? Love you too. Bye.”

Out the corner of his eye, he watched Uraraka place the phone stiffly on the counter, then rub her eyes. She glanced sidelong at him, then tucked a hand behind her head and laughed affably.

“Heh heh, sorry about my parents! They sure do talk a lot sometimes!”

Katsuki shrugged while dumping onion and garlic into a pan. He had his own issues with his mother gabbing on all the time; he could hardly begrudge hers for the same.

“A-and I didn’t talk about you _that_ much,” she clarified. “But I did get the internship with Gunhead ‘cause of our fight. Mostly, anyways.”

“You don’t need a reason to want to get stronger,” Katsuki said, pushing the onions around the pan with a spatula. “Forget about it.”

Placated by his indifference, Uraraka began rooting through her cupboard and pulled a single sweet potato off the otherwise bare shelf. She hummed to herself as she shoved it in the microwave, then leaned against the counter and began scrolling through her phone, apparently done.

Katsuki lowered the spatula and glared at her, his annoyance spitting in his chest like water on a hot plate. “You’re not fucking serious?”

She pulled her eyes from the screen and stared at him. “What?”

“That’s all you’re having? A fucking _potato_?”

“Uh… yeah? I don’t have anything else so –“

“You told your parents you did!”

Her face crumpled into an unhappy expression. “Well, I left it too late to request food from UA over the weekend, and my parents haven’t been paid for their new contract yet so I don’t wanna trouble them for –“

Katsuki rolled his eyes and grabbed the sweet potato out of the microwave. “It’s going in the curry.”

“H-hey! But that’s all I have –“

“Yes I know, dipshit, you can share it with me. I was making enough for leftovers anyways.” He wielded the spatula at her when she opened her mouth to protest. “I’m too fucking hungry to get into an argument so just shut up and put the rice on.” He tsked, then began chopping the potato into chunks. “I swear, what kind of idiot thinks they can eat a fucking microwaved potato for a meal?”

She toed the floor, pink cheeked and conflicted, then leaned into his field of his vision so he’d catch her smile. “Thanks, Kat! Don’t make it too spicy, okay?”

“Just put the damn rice on!”

They cooked together as harmoniously as they’d built the shed, falling into a rhythm that somehow worked without the need for direction. At some point, he became hyper-aware of her presence again. It was so weird that just two weeks ago he’d barely noticed her outside the sparring ring, but now it felt like there was an electric current between them - or maybe it was magnetic? He just couldn’t figure out whether they were two parts of the same side being repelled, or opposites pulling together.

She brushed past him to get to the fridge and he shivered at the unexpected contact. Gods, this was going to drive him crazy before the weekend was through.

He gestured roughly for Uraraka to bring over the rice, then spooned the curry into bowls. She added the garnish and a couple of boiled eggs, her expression explosive with excitement, then took it off him without adding any seasoning and skipped over to the tables. He followed her after dumping half a ton of chilies over his then took the seat next to her.

She stared at him with a spoon rammed in her mouth, surprised.

“What?” he snapped.

She swallowed noisily, her eyes all wide and strange looking. “Nothin’. I just… thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

“What?”

“As in…” She twirled her spoon in circles, awkwardly hunting for the words. “I thought you’d rather sit by the TV or something.”

A flash of hurt swept through him but he ruthlessly crushed it down, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to let some nobody like her get his feelings in a twist.

He stood up. “Fine, I get the hint.”

“Wha – n- no!” She grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugging him back down. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised, is all. That you’d wanna keep spending time with me instead of eatin’ alone. ‘Cause I know you like your personal space.”

He said nothing and angrily started eating, because honestly he was too hungry to figure out anything remotely related to his tumultuous emotions, much less try to vocalize them.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to respond, she continued eating, then said, “Thanks for the food, Kat. It’s really good.”

“I don’t wanna see you starvin’ yourself again,” he snapped. “I’m serious. I will lose my shit if I catch you microwaving a sweet potato. Just come to me and I’ll cook you something.”

“I couldn’t –“

“Don’t fucking argue with me. What kind of person turns down free food? Just accept the offer.”

She smiled, the faintest blush creeping across her cheeks, and pressed her fingers together. “You know, Katsuki, I wanted to say –“

They’d both forgotten about the floating glass stuck to the ceiling, and the moment her fingertips touched it dropped to the floor and smashed. She shrieked, leaping out of her chair, then scurried over to the kitchen and began hunting around for the dustpan and brush. Begrudgingly, Katsuki abandoned his curry to help her, and began collecting the largest fragments of glass.

“Your quirk is such a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t I know it,” she bemoaned, sweeping around the counter’s skirting board with the brush. “I gotta sleep with oven mitts on, did ya know that? Otherwise I end up floatin’ the bed or the pillows or myself.”

He snorted. “Why don’t you wear normal gloves?”

“’Cause oven mitts are cozy!”

“You’re weird.”

She squinted at him. “I’ll remember that next time you harass me to work on Warhead.”

“I don’t harass you!” he yelled, and his hand reflexively tensed over the glass; it bit through skin and he dropped it with a hiss. Blood beaded to the surface of a cut across his thumb, then dripped down his palm and splattered to the floor. “Fuck’s sake.”

“Ah! You’re bleedin’ everywhere!”

“Yea, no shit –“

“Here.” She handed him a dish cloth to press against the wound then brushed him out of the kitchen. “Go sit down. I’ll clean up the rest.”

“Don’t tell me what to do! This is _your_ fault for droppin’ the glass in the first place!”

But he sat down at the table anyway and clenched the dishcloth to his wound with one hand while wolfing down the rest of the curry before it got cold. Couldn’t they spend half an hour in one another’s company without one of them getting injured? Unbelievable.

She returned after cleaning the glass, holding a first-aid kit and a band-aid – because he hadn’t had enough of _those_ today – then pulled the blood-stained cloth out of his hand.

“I can do it myself,” he said crossly, but she dragged his hand down in front of her on the table anyway, palm up, and began cleaning the wound with alcohol wipes.

A shiver ran through him and he frowned at the sensation of deja vu. Hadn’t something similar happened in the woods? He’d barely been conscious at the time, then he’d woken up with hygiene wipes wrapped around his hands. He couldn’t remember, exactly.

Fuck, why were his thoughts getting so fuzzy? He probably ate too much and needed a nap.

Pushing aside his empty bowl, Katsuki buried his face in the crook of his arm and closed his eyes. Maybe he should’ve felt embarrassed by how fast she was turning his limbs to jelly, but he was too unwound to care. The entire building could’ve come crashing down on him and he wouldn’t have budged, honestly.

He heard the band-aid being ripped open then felt it press against the cut – sore at first – then much to his surprise she started massaging his hand. He cracked open an eye and peered at her over his arm but she didn’t notice; she’d opened one of the textbooks and was reading while working his hand between her thumbs, pinkies raised, apparently not giving two shits what he or anyone else thought.

So why should he care either?

He closed his eyes and let the tension roll out of him until nothing else existed besides her hand against his, their combined breathing and the occasional rustle of a page turning.

At some indiscernible point, he realized her hand had moved down his arm. Shaken out of his semi-state of consciousness, he watched her draw lazy circles along his bare forearm and wondered what the hell she was thinking. But one look at the side of her face told him that she probably wasn’t thinking at all – not about him, anyway; her attention remained on the textbook while she used her free hand to turn the pages. His gaze turned back to her hand as it travelled up his bicep. Her fingerpads felt weird but not unpleasant, and she kept her pinkie tucked into her palm to stop from activating her quirk; her nails left behind faint red lines on his skin like fireworks streaking across a night sky.

Her hand crept higher over his shoulder then across his chest, ghosting over the neck of his t-shirt. The touch of her fingers on his bare skin stirred gooseflesh along his arms and froze him to the spot. He knew he should probably move or tell her to stop, because it was weird that she was touching him like this in the middle of the communal area, but she didn’t seem to care at all; she even _yawned_ while turning another page.

Suddenly her hand dived under the neck of his shirt, gliding over his bare chest, and the unexpected rush of fiery pleasure that shot to his groin made him jolt out of his slumped position on the table. He leaned back in the chair, fixing her with a surprised look as she withdrew her hand from under his shirt.

“Uraraka, you…” he started, but was stopped when her hand trailed down his chest again – albeit over the top of his shirt this time – and skirted his abdomen. His breath hitched in his throat as the pleasure spiked through him again, and he was mortified to find himself growing hard against his joggers.

“Hmm?” she hummed indifferently, not looking up from her book.

Why the fuck didn’t she care? She wasn’t even blushing, and the idiot was _always_ blushing.

“You –“ he tried again but her hand crept lower and suddenly she was squeezing his growing bulge and his words became a nonsensical splutter.

“What?” she asked, not even a hint of playfulness in her tone as she turned another page, like her hand was working without her knowledge, like it was disconnected from her brain somehow.

The moment she started rubbing him through his joggers all rational thought vacated his brain like birds startled out of a tree. There was still some semblance of hesitation running through him, fueled mostly by confusion, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it; his focus narrowed to their point of contact and he helplessly swelled to his full girth beneath her firm touch.

The confusion reared its head again as her hand slid under the waistline of his joggers. He gripped her wrist as she wrapped her hand around his length, his dry mouth fumbling around a question. “Uraraka, why are you, I don’t –“

“Shh,” she said.

His reflexive anger at being shushed was absent as she pulled him out of his joggers and began to pump him with long, slow strokes. His left hand ghosted over her wrist while the other gripped the edge of the table, his vision spinning at the edges. Every nerve ending crackled under his skin and his breaths came hot and fast; it felt so fucking good and he was sure he was gonna cum the moment she so much as looked in his direction. Fuck, where did she even learn to do that?

All he could do was pant and stare, entranced by the sight of her hand around him, by the way her fingerpads grazed his weeping tip before dipping down again and squeezing him at the base. She maintained that slow, tortuous pace, stringing him along like a fish on a hook; he was pretty sure she could’ve asked him to jump off a cliff right then and he would’ve done it. Would’ve done anything she asked him to.

“Uraraka – “ he spluttered, breath hitching in his throat as she suddenly picked up her pace. “Ugh – yeah, like that – I – _fuck_ –“

As she gripped him harder, he suddenly realized something was amiss. All her fingers were wrapped around his dick – so why wasn’t he floating? Shouldn’t he be -

Katsuki jolted awake, hitting his knee on the underside of the table with a sickening crack. He spluttered a curse, shooting up from where he’d been slumped in the crook of his elbow. It hurt like hell but honestly he was just glad he’d hit his knee and not his raging fucking boner –

“A-ah, Katsuki, are you okay?”

The reality of what happened settled over him and he creakily shifted his gaze to meet Uraraka’s. She was in the same position as before, still reading through the textbooks. Absolute horror cast a fiery blush across his cheeks because _fucking christ_ he’d just dreamed about her jerking him off in the fucking communal room while she was _sitting right next to him._

And to top things off, his hand was entwined with hers against the tabletop.

“Oh, um, sorry,” she said, following his gaze and tittering sheepishly. “You fell asleep and I literally couldn’t get you to let go, so…”

The horror amplified and he snatched his hand out of hers. “Then wake me up, you weirdo! What’s your problem? Don’t fucking touch me again.”

She blinked at him, looking hurt, then cleared her throat and dropped her hands into her lap. “Sorry.”

Shit. He’d hurt her feelings. Again. “Don’t be. I’m just tired.”

And horny, apparently.

She hummed vaguely. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look red. Are you getting a temperature?”

“I’m fine.”

“You can go to bed if you want. I’ll clean up the kitchen. I’m pretty much done studying, anyhow, and it’s the least I can do after you cooked for me.”

“Do what you want, I don’t care.”

She stared at him and for a horrible moment Katsuki really thought she wasn’t going to go the fuck away, but she eventually stood, gathering her textbooks into a pile, then wandered over to the kitchen.

“Get an early night then, if you’re gonna be grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy!” he snapped, then stood up and seized the opportunity to skulk past her without her noticing his semi.

“Thanks for working hard today, Katsuki-kun,” she called after him. “See you tomorrow.”

He ignored her and headed to his room, still feeling an unsettling mixture of arousal and horror. Because he’d never had a sex dream before, especially one so vivid, and why did it have to be about _her_ , of all the fucking people? What did it even _mean_? It wasn’t like he had a thing for her, right? Because there was no way someone like her would fall onto his radar like _that_. Not that he’d given that sort of thing any kind of thought. He didn’t even know what his type was. Did he have a type?

Was _she_ his type?

No. That was fucking ridiculous.

He stomped to his room, slammed the door behind him, then sank to the floor with his elbows rested on his bent knees. His chest hurt. Or did it? His heart was pounding, and he wanted to scream to get rid of the building frustration in his core – all of it directed at her – because she’d gotten under his skin like a… like a _parasite_. And he couldn’t shake her off. Moreover, he didn’t _want_ to shake her off. He wanted to be around her all the time and he thought about her all the time, which probably meant…

Maybe she was his type, after all.

…

Katsuki scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned.


End file.
